i  THE 

1  HERITAGE  1 

OF  THE       iS 


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SIOUX 


B.M.  BOWER 


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IUV     /f/f 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 


"  You  not  let  moon  look  on  you,"  she  chided  in  an  under- 
tone.    FRONTISPIECE.     See  page  5J. 


THE  HERITAGE 
OF  THE    SIOUX 

BY 

B.  M.  BOWER 

AUTHOR  OF 

CHIP  OF  THE  FLYING-U, 
FLYING-U    RANCH,    ETC. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE  BY 

MONTE  CREWS 


GROSSET  &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS      NEW    YORK 


Copyright,  1916, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWX,  AND  COMPAKT. 


All  rights  reserved 

Published,  September,  1916 

Reprinted,  October,  1916 

November,  1916 


SRLfi 

URU 


•'€.'3 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I  WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES  .     .     . 

II  THE  DAUGHTER  or  A  CHIEF  . 

III  To  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS  .     .     . 

IV  LOVE  WORDS  EOR  ANNIE   .... 
V  FOR  THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY  . 

VI  "I    Go    WHERE    WAGALEXA    CONKA 

SAT" 

VII  ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING   . 

VIII  THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA   . 

IX  EIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND  .     . 

X  DEPUTIES   ALL 141 

XI  ALL  THIS  WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS  152 

XII  THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE   .     .     .     .167 

XIII  SET   AFOOT 184 

XIV  ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH  .     .  200 
XV  "  Now,  DANG  IT,  RIDE  !  "  .     .     .     .215 

XVI  ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS    .      .      .236 

XVII  APPLEHEAD  SHOWS  THE  STUFF  HE  Is 

MADE  OF 250 

XVIII  IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN  .     .     .261 

XIX  PEACE  TALK 274 

XX  Luis  ROJAS  TALKS 293 

XXI  "WAGALEXA    CONKA  — COLA!"         .  300 


THE  HERITAGE  OF 
THE  SIOUX 

CHAPTEK  I 

WHEN    GEEEN    GKASS    COMES 

OLD  Applehead  Furrman,  jogging  home 
across  the  mesa  from  Albuquerque,  sniffed 
the  soft  breeze  that  came  from  opal-tinted  dis- 
tances and  felt  poignantly  that  spring  was  indeed 
here.  The  grass,  thick  and  green  in  the  sheltered 
places,  was  fast  painting  all  the  higher  ridges  and 
foot-hill  slopes,  and  with  the  green  grass  came  the 
lank-bodied,  big-kneed  calves;  which  meant  that 
roundup  time  was  at  hand.  Applehead  did  not 
own  more  than  a  thousand  head  of  cattle,  counting 
every  hoof  that  walked  under  his  brand.  And 
with  the  incipient  lethargy  of  old  age  creeping 
into  his  habits  of  life,  roundup  time  was  not  with 
him  the  important  season  it  once  had  been;  for 

1 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

several  years  he  had  been  content  to  hire  a  couple 
of  men  to  represent  him  in  the  roundups  of  the 
larger  outfits  —  men  whom  he  could  trust  to  watch 
fairly  well  his  interests.  By  that  method  he 
avoided  much  trouble  and  hurry  and  hard  work 
—  and  escaped  also  the  cares  which  come  with 
wealth. 

But  this  spring  was  not  as  other  springs  had 
been.  Something  —  whether  an  awakened  am- 
bition or  an  access  of  sentiment  regarding  range 
matters,  he  did  not  know  —  was  stirring  the  blood 
in  Applehead's  veins.  Never,  since  the  days  when 
he  had  been  a  cowpuncher,  had  the  wide  spaces 
called  to  him  so  alluringly;  never  had  his  mind 
dwelt  so  insistently  upon  the  approach  of  spring 
roundup.  Perhaps  it  was  because  he  heard  so 
much  range  talk  at  the  ranch,  where  the  boys  of 
the  Flying  U  were  foregathered  in  uneasy  idle- 
ness, their  fingers  itching  for  the  feel  of  lariat 
ropes  and  branding  irons  while  they  gazed  out 
over  the  wide  spaces  of  the  mesa. 

So  much  good  rangeland  unharnessed  by  wire 
fencing  the  Flying  U  boys  had  not  seen  for  many 
a  day.  During  the  winter  they  had  been  content 

2 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

to  ride  over  it  merely  for  the  purpose  of  helping 
to  make  a  motion  picture  of  the  range,  but  with 
the  coming  of  green  grass,  and  with  the  reaction 
that  followed  the  completion  of  the  picture  that 
in  the  making  had  filled  all  their  thoughts,  they 
were  not  so  content.  To  the  inevitable  reaction 
had  been  added  a  nerve  racking  period  of  idleness 
and  uncertainty  while  Luck  Lindsay,  their  direc- 
tor, strove  with  the  Great  Western  Film  Company 
in  Los  Angeles  for  terms  and  prices  that  would 
make  for  the  prosperity  of  himself  and  his  com- 
pany. 

In  his  heart  Applehead  knew,  just  as  the  Happy 
Family  knew,  that  Luck  had  good  and  sufficient 
reasons  for  over-staying  the  time-limit  he  had 
given  himself  for  the  trip.  But  knowing  that 
Luck  was  not  to  be  blamed  for  his  long  absence 
did  not  lessen  their  impatience,  nor  did  it  stifle 
the  call  of  the  wide  spaces  nor  the  subtle  influence 
of  the  winds  that  blew  softly  over  the  uplands. 

By  the  time  he  reached  the  ranch  Applehead 
had  persuaded  himself  that  the  immediate  gather- 
ing of  his  cattle  was  an  imperative  duty  and  that 
he  himself  must  perform  it.  He  could  not,  he 

3 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

told  himself,  afford  to  wait  around  any  longer  for 
Luck.  Maybe  when  he  came  Luck  would  have 
nothing  but  disappointment  for  them.  Maybe  — 
Luck  was  so  consarned  stubborn  when  he  got  an 
idea  in  his  head  —  maybe  he  wouldn't  come  to 
any  agreement  with  the  Great  Western.  Maybe 
they  wouldn't  offer  him  enough  money,  or  leave 
him  enough  freedom  in  his  work;  maybe  he 
would  "  fly  back  on  the  rope  "  at  the  last  minute, 
and  come  back  with  nothing  accomplished. 
Applehead,  with  the  experience  gleaned  from  the 
stress  of  seeing  Luck  produce  one  feature  picture 
without  any  financial  backing  whatever  and  with- 
out half  enough  capital,  was  not  looking  forward 
with  any  enthusiasm  to  another  such  ordeal.  He 
did  not  believe,  when  all  was  said  and  done,  that 
the  Flying  TJ  boys  would  be  so  terribly  eager  to 
repeat  the  performance.  He  did  believe  —  or  he 
made  himself  think  he  believed  —  that  the  only 
sensible  thing  to  do  right  then  was  to  take  the 
boys  and  go  out  and  start  a  roundup  of  his  own. 
It  wouldn't  take  long  —  his  cattle  weren't  so  badly 
scattered  this  year. 

"  Where's  Andy  at  ?  "  he  asked  Pink,  who  hap- 
4 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

pened  to  be  leaning  boredly  over  the  gate  when 
he  rode  up  to  the  corral.  Andy  Green,  having 
been  left  in  nominal  charge  of  the  outfit  when 
Luck  left,  must  be  consulted,  Applehead  supposed. 

"Andy?  I  dunno.  He  saddled  up  and  rode 
off  somewhere,  a  while  ago,"  Pink  answered 
glumly.  "  That's  more  than  he'll  let  any  of  us 
fellows  do;  the  way  he's  close-herding  us  makes 
me  tired !  Any  news  ?  " 

"  Ain't  ary  word  from  Luck  —  no  word  of  no 
kind.  I've  about  made  up  my  mind  to  take  the 
chuck-wagon  to  town  and  stock  it  with  grub,  and 
hit  out  on  roundup  t'morrer  or  next  day.  I  don't 
see  as  there's  any  sense  in  setting  around  here 
waitin'  on  Luck  and  lettin'  my  own  work  slide. 
Chavez  boys,  they  started  out  yest'day,  I  heard  in 
town.  And  if  I  don't  git  right  out  close  onto 
their  heels,  I'll  likely  find  myself  with  a  purty 
light  crop  uh  calves,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh ! " 
Applehead,  so  completely  had  he  come  under  the 
spell  of  the  soft  spring  air  and  the  lure  of  the 
mesa,  actually  forgot  that  he  had  long  been  in  the 
habit  of  attending  to  his  calf  crop  by  proxy. 

Pink's  face  brightened  briefly.  Then  he  re- 
5 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

membered  why  they  were  being  kept  so  close  to 
the  ranch,  and  he  grew  bored  again. 

"  What  if  Luck  pulled  in  before  we  got  back, 
and  wanted  us  to  start  work  on  another  picture  ?  " 
he  asked,  discouraging  the  idea  reluctantly.  Pink 
had  himself  been  listening  to  the  call  of  the  wide 
spaces,  and  the  mere  mention  of  roundup  had  a 
thrill  for  him. 

"  Well,  now,  I  calc'late  my  prope'ty  is  might' 
nigh  as  important  as  Luck's  pitcher-making," 
Applehead  contended  with  a  selfishness  born  of 
his  newly  awakened  hunger  for  the  far  distances. 
"  And  he  ain't  sent  ary  word  that  he's  coming,  or 
will  need  you  boys  immediate.  The  chances  is 
we  could  go  and  git  back  agin  before  Luck  shows 
up.  And  if  we  don't,"  he  argued  speciously,  "  he 
can't  blame  nobody  for  not  wantin'  to  set  around 
on  their  haunches  all  spring  waiting  for  'im.  I'd 
do  a  lot  fer  Luck;  I've  done  a  lot  fer  'im.  But 
it  ain't  to  be  expected  I'd  set  around  waitin'  on 
him  and  let  them  danged  Mexicans  rustle  my 
calves.  They'll  do  it  if  they  git  half  a  show  — 
now  I'm  telliii'  yuh !  " 

Pink  did  not  say  anything  at  all,  either  in 
6 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

assent  or  argument;  but  old  Applehead,  now  that 
he  had  established  a  plausible  reason  for  his  sud- 
den impulse,  went  on  arguing  the  case  while  he 
unsaddled  his  horse.  By  the  time  he  turned  the 
animal  loose  he  had  thought  of  two  or  three  other 
reasons  why  he  should  take  the  boys  and  start  out 
as  soon  as  possible  to  round  up  his  cattle.  He 
was  still  dilating  upon  these  reasons  when  Andy 
Green  rode  slowly  down  the  slope  to  the  cor- 
ral. 

"  Annie-Many-Pomes  come  back  yet  ? "  he 
asked  of  Pink,  as  he  swung  down  off  his  horse. 

"  Annie  ?  No ;  ain't  seen  anything  of  her. 
Shunky's  been  sitting  out  there  on  the  hill  for  the 
last  hour,  looking  for  her." 

"  Fer  half  a  cent,"  threatened  old  Applehead, 
in  a  bad  humor  because  his  arguments  had  not 
quite  convinced  him  that  he  was  not  meditating 
a  disloyalty,  "  I'd  kill  that  danged  dawg.  And  if 
I  was  runnin'  this  bunch,  I'd  send  that  squaw 
back  where  she  come  from,  and  I'd  send  her  quick. 
Take  the  two  of  'em  together  and  they  don't  set 
good  with  me,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  If  I  was  to 
say  what  I  think,  I'd  say  yuh  can't  never  trust 

7 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

an  Injun  —  and  shiny  hair  and  eyes  and  slim 
build  don't  make  'em  no  trustier.  They's  some- 
thing scaley  goin'  on  around  here,  and  I'd  gamble 
on  it.  And  that  there  squaw's  at  the  bottom  of 
it.  What  fur's  she  ridin'  off  every  day,  V 
nobody  knowin'  where  she  goes  to  ?  If  Luck's  got 
the  sense  he  used  to  have,  he'll  git  some  white  girl 
to  act  in  his  pitchers,  and  send  that  there  squaw 
home  'fore  she  double-crosses  him  some  way  or 
other." 

"Oh,  hold  on,  Applehead!"  Pink  felt  con- 
strained to  defend  the  girl.  "You've  got  it  in 
for  her  'cause  her  dog  don't  like  your  cat.  Annie's 
all  right ;  I  never  saw  anything  outa  the  way  with 
her  yet." 

"  Well,  now,  time  you're  old  as  I  be,  you'll  have 
some  sense,  mebby,"  Applehead  quelled.  "  Course 
you  think  Annie's  all  right.  She's  purty,  V 
purtyness  in  a  woman  shore  does  cover  up  a  pile 
uh  cussedness  —  to  a  feller  under  forty.  You're 
boss  here,  Andy.  When  she  comes  back,  you  ask 
'er  where  she's  been,  and  see  if  you  kin  git  a 
straight  answer.  She'll  lie  to  yuh  —  I'll  bet  all 
I  got,  she'll  lie  to  yuh.  And  when  a  woman  lies 

8 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

about  where  she's  been  to  and  what  she's  been 
doin',  you  can  bet  there's  something  scaley  goin' 
on.  Yuh  can't  fool  me !  " 

He  turned  and  went  up  to  the  small  adobe 
house  where  he  had  lived  in  solitary  contentment 
with  his  cat  Compadre  until  Luck  Lindsay,  seek- 
ing a  cheap  headquarters  for  his  free-lance  com- 
pany while  he  produced  the  big  Western  picture 
which  filled  all  his  mind,  had  taken  calm  and 
unheralded  possession  of  the  ranch.  Applehead 
did  not  resent  the  invasion;  on  the  contrary,  he 
welcomed  it  as  a  pleasant  change  in  his  monot- 
onous existence.  What  he  did  resent  was  the 
coming,  first,  of  the  little  black  dog  that  was  no 
more  than  a  tramp  and  had  no  right  on  the  ranch, 
and  that  broke  all  the  laws  of  decency  and  grati- 
tude by  making  the  life  of  the  big  blue  cat  miser- 
able. Also  he  resented  the  uninvited  arrival  of 
Annie-Many-Ponies  from  the  Sioux  reservation  in 
North  Dakota. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  had  not  only  come  unin- 
vited—  she  had  remained  in  defiance  of  Luck's 
perturbed  insistence  that  she  should  go  back  home. 
The  Flying  U  boys  might  overlook  that  fact 

9 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

because  of  her  beauty,  but  Applehead  was  not  so 
easily  beguiled  —  especially  when  she  proceeded 
to  form  a  violent  attachment  to  the  little  black 
dog,  which  she  called  Shunka  Chistala  in  what 
Applehead  considered  a  brazen  flaunting  of  her 
Indian  blood  and  language.  Between  the  mistress 
of  Shunka  Chistala  and  the  master  of  the  cat  there 
could  never  be  anything  more  cordial  than  an 
armed  truce.  She  had  championed  that  ornery 
cur  in  a  way  to  make  Applehead's  blood  boil.  She 
had  kept  the  dog  in  the  house  at  night,  which 
forced  the  cat  to  seek  cold  comfort  elsewhere.  She 
had  pilfered  the  choicest  table  scraps  for  the  dog 
—  and  Compadre  was  a  cat  of  fastidious  palate 
and  grew  thin  on  what  coarse  bits  were  con- 
descendingly left  for  him. 

Applehead  had  not  approved  of  Luck's  final 
consent  that  Annie-Many-Ponies  should  stay  and 
play  the  Indian  girl  in  his  big  picture.  In  the 
mind  of  Applehead  there  lurked  a  grudge  that 
found  all  the  more  room  to  grow  because  of  the 
natural  bigness  and  generosity  of  his  nature.  It 
irked  him  to  see  her  going  her  calm  way  with  that 
proud  uptilt  to  her  shapely  head  and  that  little, 

10 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

inscrutable  smile  when  she  caught  the  meaning 
of  his  grumbling  hints. 

Applehead  was  easy-going  to  a  fault  in  most 
things,  but  his  dislike  had  grown  in  Luck's 
absence  to  the  point  where  he  considered  himself 
aggrieved  whenever  Aimie-Many-Ponies  saddled 
the  horse  which  had  been  tacitly  set  aside  for  her 
use,  and  rode  off  into  the  mesa  without  a  word 
of  explanation  or  excuse.  Applehead  reminded 
the  boys  that  she  had  not  acted  like  that  when 
Luck  was  home.  She  had  stayed  on  the  ranch 
where  she  belonged,  except  once  or  twice,  on 
particularly  fine  days,  when  she  had  meekly  asked 
"  "Wagalexa  Conka,"  as  she  persisted  in  calling 
Luck,  for  permission  to  go  for  a  ride. 

Applehead  itched  to  tell  her  a  few  things  about 
the  social,  moral,  intellectual  and  economic  status 
of  an  "  Injun  squaw  " —  but  there  was  something 
in  her  eye,  something  in  the  quiver  of  her  finely 
shaped  nostrils,  in  the  straight  black  brows,  that 
held  his  tongue  quiet  when  he  met  her  face  to  face. 
You  couldn't  tell  about  these  squaws.  Even 
Luck,  who  knew  Indians  better  than  most  —  and 
was,  in  a  heathenish  tribal  way,  the  adopted  son 

11 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

of  Old  Chief  Big  Turkey,  and  therefore  Annie's 
brother  by  adoption  —  even  Luck  maintained  that 
Annie-Many-Ponies  undoubtedly  carried  a  knife 
concealed  in  her  clothes  and  would  use  it  if  ever 
the  need  arose.  Applehead  was  not  afraid  of 
Annie's  knife.  It  was  something  else,  something 
he  could  not  put  into  words,  that  held  him  back 
from  open  upbraidings. 

He  gave  Andy's  wife,  Rosemary,  the  mail  and 
stopped  to  sympathize  with  her  because  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  had  gone  away  and  left  the  hardest 
part  of  the  ironing  undone.  Luck  had  told  Annie 
to  help  Rosemary  with  the  work ;  but  Annie's  help, 
when  Luck  was  not  around  the  place,  was,  Rose- 
mary asserted,  purely  theoretical. 

"  And  from  all  you  read  about  Indians,"  Rose- 
mary complained  with  a  pretty  wrinkling  of  her 
brows,  "you'd  think  the  women  just  live  for  the 
sake  of  working.  I've  lost  all  faith  in  history, 
Mr.  Furrman.  I  don't  believe  squaws  ever  do 
anything  if  they  can  help  it.  Before  she  went  off 
riding  today,  for  instance,  that  girl  spent  a  whole 
hour  brushing  her  hair  and  braiding  it.  And  I 
do  believe  she  greases  it  to  make  it  shine  the  way 

12 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

it  does!  And  the  powder  she  piles  on  her  face 
—  just  to  ride  out  on  the  mesa !  "  Rosemary 
Green  was  naturally  sweet-tempered  and  exceed- 
ingly charitable  in  her  judgements ;  but  here,  too, 
the  cat-and-dog  feud  had  its  influence.  Rosemary 
Green  was  a  loyal  champion  of  the  cat  Compadre ; 
besides,  there  was  a  succession  of  little  irritations, 
in  the  way  of  dishes  left  unwashed  and  inconspic- 
uous corners  left  unswept,  to  warp  her  opinion  of 
Annie-Many-Ponies. 

When  he  left  Rosemary  he  went  straight  down 
to  where  the  chuck-wagon  stood,  and  began  to  tap 
the  tires  with  a  small  rock  to  see  if  they  would  need 
resetting  before  he  started  out.  He  decided  that 
the  brake-blocks  would  have  to  be  replaced  with 
new  ones  —  or  at  least  reshod  with  old  boot-soles. 
The  tongue  was  cracked,  too;  that  had  been  done 
last  winter  when  Luck  was  producing  The  Phan- 
tom Herd  and  had  sent  old  Dave  Wiswell  down  a 
rocky  hillside  with  half-broken  bronks  harnessed 
to  the  wagon,  in  a  particularly  dramatic  scene. 
Applehead  went  grumblingly  in  search  of  some 
baling  wire  to  wrap  the  tongue.  He  had  been 
terribly  excited  and  full  of  enthusiasm  for  the 

13 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

picture  at  the  time  the  tongue  was  cracked,  but 
now  he  looked  upon  it  merely  as  a  vital  weakness 
in  his  roundup  outfit.  A  new  tongue  would  mean 
delay;  and  delay,  in  his  present  mood,  was 
tragedy. 

He  couldn't  find  any  old  baling  wire,  though 
he  had  long  been  accustomed  to  tangling  his  feet 
in  snarled  bunches  of  it  when  he  went  forth  in 
the  dark  after  a  high  wind.  Until  now  he  had 
not  observed  its  unwonted  absence  from  the  yard. 
For  a  long  while  he  had  not  needed  any  wire  to 
mend  things,  because  Luck  had  attended  to  every- 
thing about  the  ranch,  and  if  anything  needed 
mending  he  had  set  one  of  the  Happy  Family  at 
the  task. 

His  search  led  him  out  beyond  the  corrals  in  the 
little  dry  wash  that  sometimes  caught  and  held 
what  the  high  winds  brought  rolling  that  way. 
The  wash  was  half  filled  with  tumble-weed,  so 
that  Applehead  was  forced  to  get  down  into  it  and 
kick  the  weeds  aside  to  see  if  there  was  any  wire 
lodged  beneath.  His  temper  did  not  sweeten  over 
the  task,  especially  since  he  found  nothing  that  he 
wanted. 

14 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  riding  surreptitiously  up 
the  dry  wash  —  meaning  to  come  out  in  a  farther 
gully  and  so  approach  the  corral  from  the  west  in- 
stead of  from  the  east  —  came  upon  Applehead 
quite  unexpectedly.  She  stopped  and  eyed  him 
aslant  from  under  her  level,  finely  marked  brows, 
and  her  eyes  lightened  with  relief  when  she  saw 
that  Applehead  looked  more  startled  than  she  had 
felt.  Indeed,  Applehead  had  been  calling  Luck 
uncomplimentary  names  for  cleaning  the  place  of 
everything  a  man  might  need  in  a  hurry,  and  he 
was  ashamed  of  himself. 

"  Can't  find  a  foot  of  danged  wire  on  the 
danged  place ! "  Applehead  kicked  a  large, 
tangled  bunch  of  weeds  under  the  very  nose  of  the 
horse  which  jumped  sidewise.  "  Never  seen  such 
a  maniac  for  puttin'  things  where  a  feller  can't  find 
?em,  as  what  Luck  is."  He  was  not  actually  speak- 
ing to  Annie-Many-Ponies  —  or  if  he  was  he  did 
not  choose  to  point  his  remarks  by  glancing  at 
her. 

"  Wagalexa  Conka,  he  heap  careful  for  things 
belong  where  they  stay,"  Annie-Many-Ponies  ob- 
served in  her  musical  contralto  voice  which  always 

15 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

irritated  Applehead  with  its  very  melodj.  "  I 
think  plenty  wire  all  fold  up  neat  in  prop-room. 
Wagalexa  Conka,  he  all  time  clean  this  studio  front 
trash  lie  around  everywhere." 

"  He  does,  hey  ? "  Applehead's  sunburnt  mus- 
tache bristled  like  the  whiskers  of  Compadre  when 
he  was  snarling  defiance  at  the  little  black  dog. 
The  feud  was  asserting  itself.  "Well,  this  here 
danged  place  ain't  no  studio!  It's  a  ranch,  and 
it  b'longs  to  me,  Nip  Furnnan.  And  any  balin' 
wire  on  this  ranch  is  my  balin'  wire,  and  it's  got  a 
right  to  lay  around  wherever  I  want  it  t'  lay.  And 
I  don't  need  no  danged  squaw  givin'  me  hints  about 
how  my  place  oughta  be  kept  —  now  I'm  tellin' 
yuh!" 

Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  reply  in  words. 
She  sat  on  her  horse,  straight  as  any  young  war- 
chief  that  ever  led  her  kinsmen  to  battle,  and 
looked  down  at  Applehead  with  that  maddening 
half  smile  of  hers,  inscrutable  as  the  Sphinx  her 
features  sometimes  resembled.  Shunka  Chistala 
(which  is  Sioux  for  Little  Dog)  came  bounding 
over  the  low  ridge  that  hid  the  ranch  buildings 
from  sight,  and  wagged  himself  dislocatinglj  up  to 

16 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

her.  Annie-Many-Ponies  frowned  at  his  approach 
until  she  saw  that  Applehead  was  aiming  a  clod  at 
the  dog,  whereupon  she  touched  her  heels  to  the 
horse  and  sent  him  between  Applehead  and  her 
pet,  and  gave  Shunka  Chistala  a  sharp  command  in 
Sioux  that  sent  him  hack  to  the  house  with  his  tail 
dropped. 

For  a  full  half  minute  she  and  old  Applehead 
looked  at  each  other  in  open  antagonism.  For  a 
squaw,  Annie-Many-Ponies  was  remarkably  unsub- 
missive in  her  bearing.  Her  big  eyes  were  frankly 
hostile ;  her  half  smile  was,  in  the  opinion  of  Apple- 
head,  almost  as  frankly  scornful.  He  could  not 
match  her  in  the  subtleties  of  feminine  warfare. 
He  took  refuge  behind  the  masculine  bulwark  of 
authority. 

"  Where  yuh  bin  with  that  horse  uh  mine  ?  "  he 
demanded  harshly.  "Purty  note  when  I  don't 
git  no  say  about  my  own  stock.  Got  him  all  het 
up  and  heavin'  like  he'd  been  runnin'  cattle;  I 
ain't  goin'  to  stand  for  havin'  my  horses  run  to 
death,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  Fer  a  squaw,  I  must 
say  you're  gittin'  too  danged  uppish  in  your  ways 
around  here.  Xext  time  you  want  to  go  traipsin* 

17 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

around  the  mesa,  you  kin  go  afoot.     I'm  goin'  to 
need  my  horses  fer  roundup." 

A  white  girl  would  have  made  some  angry  re- 
tort; but  Annie-Many-Ponies,  without  looking  in 
the  least  abashed,  held  her  peace  and  kept  that  little 
inscrutable  smile  upon  her  lips.  Her  eyes,  how- 
ever, narrowed  in  their  gaze. 

f(  Yuh  hear  me  ? "  Poor  old  Applehead  had 
never  before  attempted  to  browbeat  a  woman,  and 
her  unsubmissive  silence  seemed  to  his  bachelor 
mind  uncanny. 

"  I  hear  what  Wagalexa  Conka  tell  me."  She 
turned  her  horse  and  rode  composedly  away  from 
him  over  the  ridge. 

"  You'll  hear  a  danged  sight  more'n  that,  now 
I'm  tellin'  yuh !  "  raved  Applehead  impotently. 
"  I  ain't  sayin'  nothin'  agin  Luck,  but  they's  goin' 
to  be  some  danged  plain  speakin'  done  on  some  sub- 
jects when  he  comes  back,  and  givin'  squaws  a  free 
rein  and  lettin'  'em  ride  rough-shod  over  everybody 
and  everything  is  one  of  'em.  Things  is  gittin' 
mighty  funny  when  a  danged  squaw  kin  straddle 
my  horses  and  ride  'em  to  death,  and  sass  me  when 
I  say  a  word  agin  it  —  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 
18 


WHEN  GREEN  GRASS  COMES 

He  went  mumbling  rebellion  that  was  merely  the 
effervescing  of  a  mood  which  would  pass  with  the 
words  it  bred,  to  the  store-room  which  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  had  called  the  prop-room.  He  found  there, 
piled  upon  a  crude  shelf,  many  little  bundles  of 
wire  folded  neatly  and  with  the  outer  end  wound 
twice  around  to  keep  each  bundle  separate  from  the 
others.  Applehead  snorted  at  what  he  chose  to 
consider  a  finicky  streak  in  his  secret  idol,  Luck 
Lindsay;  but  he  took  two  of  the  little  bundles 
and  went  and  wired  the  wagon  tongue.  And  in 
the  work  he  found  a  salve  of  anticipatory  pleasure, 
so  that  he  ended  the  task  to  the  humming  of  the 
tune  he  had  heard  a  movie  theatre  playing  in  town 
as  he  rode  by  on  his  way  home. 


19 


CHAPTEK  II 

THE   DAUGHTER   OP   A    CHIEF 

IN  spite  of  Andy  Green's  plea  for  delay  until 
they  knew  what  Luck  meant  to  do,  Applehead 
went  on  with  his  energetic  preparations  for  a 
spring  roundup  of  his  own.  Some  perverse  spirit 
seemed  to  possess  him  and  drive  him  out  of  his 
easy-going  shiftlessness.  He  offered  to  hire  the 
Happy  Family  by  the  day,  since  none  of  them 
would  promise  any  permanent  service  until  they 
heard  from  Luck.  He  put  them  to  work  gather- 
ing up  the  saddle-horses  that  had  been  turned  loose 
when  Luck's  picture  was  finished,  and  repairing 
harness  and  attending  to  the  numberless  details  of 
reorganizing  a  ranch  long  left  to  slipshod  make- 
shifts. 

The  boys  of  the  Flying  U  argued  while  they 
worked,  but  in  spite  of  themselves  the  lure  of  the 
mesa  quickened  their  movements.  They  were  sup- 
posed to  wait  for  Luck  before  they  did  anything; 

20 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

they  all  knew  that.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  Luck 
was  supposed  to  keep  them  informed  as  to  his  move- 
ments; which  he  had  not  done.  They  did  not 
voice  one  single  doubt  of  Luck's  loyalty  to  them  — 
but  human  nature  is  more  prone  to  suspicion  than 
to  faith,  as  every  one  knows.  And  Luck  had  the 
power  and  the  incentive  to  "  double-cross  "  them  if 
he  was  the  kind  to  do  such  a  thing.  He  was  man- 
ager for  their  little  free-lance  picture  company 
which  did  not  even  have  a  name  to  call  itself  by. 
They  had  produced  one  big  feature  film,  and  it  was 
supposed  to  be  a  co-operative  affair  from  start  to 
finish.  If  Luck  failed  to  make  good,  they  would 
all  be  broke  together.  If  Luck  cleared  up  the  few 
thousands  that  had  been  their  hope,  why  —  they 
would  all  profit  by  the  success,  if  Luck  — 

I  maintain  that  they  showed  themselves  of  pretty 
good  metal,  in  that  not  even  Happy  Jack,  con- 
firmed pessimist  that  he  was,  ever  put  the  least  sus- 
picion of  Luck's  honesty  into  words.  They  were 
not  the  kind  to  decry  a  comrade  when  his  back  was 
turned.  And  they  had  worked  with  Luck  Lindsay 
and  had  worked  for  him.  They  had  slept  under 
the  same  roof  with  him,  had  shared  his  worries, 

21 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

his  hopes,  and  his  fears.  They  did  not  believe  that 
Luck  had  appropriated  the  proceeds  of  The  Phan- 
tom Herd  and  had  deliberately  left  them  there  to 
cool  their  heels  and  feel  the  emptiness  of  their  pock- 
ets in  New  Mexico,  while  he  disported  himself  in 
Los  Angeles;  they  did  not  believe  that  —  they 
would  have  resented  the  implication  that  they  har- 
bored any  doubt  of  him.  But  for  all  that,  as  the 
days  passed  and  he  neither  came  nor  sent  them  any 
word,  they  yielded  more  and  more  to  the  determi- 
nation of  Applehead  to  start  out  upon  his  own  busi- 
ness, and  they  said  less  and  less  about  Luck's 
probable  plans  for  the  future. 

And  then,  just  when  they  were  making  ready  for 
an  early  start  the  next  morning ;  just  when  Apple- 
head  had  the  corral  full  of  horses  and  his  chuck- 
wagon  of  grub ;  just  when  the  Happy  Family  had 
packed  their  war-bags  with  absolute  necessities  and 
were  justifying  themselves  in  final  arguments  with 
Andy  Green,  who  refused  point-blank  to  leave  the 
ranch  —  then,  at  the  time  a  dramatist  would  have 
chosen  for  his  entrance  for  an  effective  "  curtain," 
here  came  Luck,  smiling  and  driving  a  huge  seven- 
passenger  machine  crowded  to  the  last  folding  seat 

22 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

and  with  the  chauffeur  riding  on  the  running  board 
where  Luck  had  calmly  banished  him  when  he 
skidded  on  a  sharp  turn  and  came  near  upsetting 
them. 

Applehead,  stowing  a  coil  of  new  rope  in  the 
chuck-wagon,  took  off  his  hat  and  rubbed  his  shiny, 
pink  pate  in  dismay.  He  was,  for  the  moment,  a 
culprit  caught  in  the  act  of  committing  a  grave 
misdemeanor  if  not  an  actual  felony.  He  dropped 
the  rope  and  went  forward  with  dragging  feet  — 
ashamed,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  face  a 
friend. 

Luck  gave  the  wheel  a  twist,  cut  a  fine  curve 
around  the  windmill  and  stopped  before  the  house 
with  as  near  a  flourish  as  a  seven-passenger  auto- 
mobile loaded  from  tail-lamp  to  windshield  can 
possibly  approach. 

"  There.  That's  the  way  I've  been  used  to  see- 
ing cars  behave,"  Luck  observed  pointedly  to  the 
deposed  chauffeur  as  he  slammed  the  door  open 
and  climbed  out.  "You  don't  have  to  act  like 
you're  a  catepillar  on  a  rail  fence,  to  play  safe.  I 
believe  in  keeping  all  four  wheels  on  the  ground  — 
but  I  like  to  see  'em  turn  once  in  awhile.  You 

23 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

get  me  ?  "  He  peeled  a  five-dollar  banknote  off  a 
roll  the  size  of  his  wrist,  handed  it  to  the  im- 
pressed chauffeur  and  dismissed  the  transaction 
with  a  wave  of  his  gloved  hand.  "  You're  all 
right,  brother,"  he  tempered  his  criticism,  "  but 
I'm  some  nervous  about  automobiles." 

"  I  noticed  that  myself,"  drawled  a  soft,  humor- 
ous voice  from  the  rear.  "  This  is  the  nearest  I 
ever  came  to  traveling  by  telegraph." 

Luck  grinned,  waved  his  hand  in  friendly  greet- 
ing to  the  Happy  Family  who  were  taking  long 
steps  up  from  the  corral,  and  turned  his  attention 
to  the  unloading  of  the  machine.  "Howdy, 
folks !  —  guess  yuh  thought  I'd  plumb  lost  the 
trail  back,"  he  called  to  them  over  his  shoulder 
while  he  dove  after  suitcases,  packages  of  various 
sizes  and  shapes,  a  box  or  two  which  the  Happy 
Family  recognized  as  containing  "  raw  stock,"  and 
a  camera  tripod  that  looked  perfectly  new. 

From  the  congested  tonneau  a  tall,  slim  young 
woman  managed  to  descend  without  stepping  on 
anything  that  could  not  bear  being  stepped  upon. 
She  gave  her  skirts  a  little  shake,  pushed  back  a 
flying  strand  of  hair  and  turned  her  back  to  the 

24 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

machine  that  she  might  the  better  inspect  her  im- 
mediate surroundings. 

Old  Dave  Wiswell,  the  dried  little  man  who 
never  had  much  to  say,  peered  at  her  sharply,  hes- 
itated and  then  came  forward  with  his  bony  hand 
outstretched  and  trembling  with  eagerness. 
"  Why,  my  gorry !  If  it  ain't  Jean  Douglas,  my 
eyes  are  lyin'  to  me,"  he  cried. 

"  It  isn't  Jean  Douglas  —  but  don't  blame  your 
eyes  for  that,"  said  the  girl,  taking  his  hand  and 
shaking  it  frankly.  "  Jean  Douglas  Avery,  thanks 
to  the  law  that  makes  a  girl  trade  her  name  for  a 
husband.  You  know  Lite,  of  course  —  dad,  too." 

"  Well,  well  —  my  gorry !  I  should  say  I  do ! 
Howdy,  Aleck  ?  "  He  shook  the  hand  of  the  old 
man  Jean  called  dad,  and  his  lips  trembled  uncer- 
tainly, seeking  speech  that  would  not  hurt  a  very, 
very  sore  spot  in  the  heart  of  big  Aleck  Douglas. 
"  I'm  shore  glad  to  meet  yuh  again,"  he  stuttered 
finally,  and  let  it  go  at  that.  "  And  how  are  yuh, 
Lite  ?  Just  as  long  and  lanky  as  ever  —  marriage 
shore  ain't  fattened  you  up  none.  My  gorry!  I 
shore  never  expected  to  see  you  folks  away  down 
hsre!" 

'       25 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Thought  you  heard  me  say  when  I  left  that 
the  Great  Western  had  offered  to  get  me  Jean 
Douglas  for  leading  lady,"  Luck  put  in,  looking 
around  distractedly  for  a  place  to  deposit  his  arm- 
load of  packages.  "  That's  one  thing  that  kept  me 
—  waiting  for  her  to  show  up.  Of  course  a  man 
naturally  expects  a  woman  to  take  her  own  time 
about  starting  — " 

"  I  like  that !  "  Jean  drawled.  "  We  broke  up 
housekeeping  and  wound  up  a  ranch  and  traveled 
a  couple  of  thousand  miles  in  just  a  week's  time. 
We  —  we  almost  hit  the  same  gait  you  did  from 
town  out  here  today !  " 

Rosemary  Green  came  out  then,  and  Luck  turned 
to  greet  her  and  to  present  Jean  to  her,  and  was 
pleased  when  he  saw  from  their  eyes  that  they  liked 
each  other  at  first  sight.  He  introduced  the 
Happy  Family  and  Applehead  to  her  and  to  her 
husband,  Lite  Avery,  and  her  father.  He  pulled 
a  skinny  individual  forward  and  announced  that 
this  was  Pete  Lowry,  one  of  the  Great  Western's 
crack  cameramen;  and  another  chubby,  smooth- 
cheeked  young  man  he  presented  as  Tommy  John- 
son, scenic  artist  and  stage  carpenter.  And  he 

26 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

added  with  a  smile  for  the  whole  bunch,  "  We're 
going  to  produce  some  real  stuff  from  now  on  — 
believe  me,  folks !  " 

In  the  confusion  and  the  mild  clamor  of  the 
absence-bridging  questions  and  hasty  answers,  two 
persons  had  no  part.  Old  Applehead,  hard-ridden 
by  the  uneasy  consciousness  of  his  treason  to  Luck, 
leaned  against  a  porch  post  and  sucked  hard  at 
the  stem  of  an  empty  pipe.  And  just  beyond  the 
corner  out  of  sight  but  well  within  hearing,  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  stood  flattened  against  the  wall  and 
listened  with  fast-beating  pulse  for  the  sound  of 
her  name,  spoken  in  the  loved  voice  of  Wagalexa 
Conka.  She,  the  daughter  of  a  chief  and  Luck's 
sister  by  tribal  adoption  —  would  he  not  miss  her 
from  among  those  others  who  welcomed  him? 
Would  he  not  presently  ask:  "Where  is  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  ? " 

She  knew  just  how  he  would  turn  and  search  for 
her  with  his  eyes.  She  knew  just  how  his  voice 
would  sound  when  he  asked  for  her.  Then,  after 
a  minute  —  when  he  had  missed  her  and  had  asked 
for  her  —  she  would  come  and  stand  before  him. 
And  he  would  take  her  hand  and  say  to  that  white 

27 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

woman ;  "  This  is  my  Indian  sister,  Annie-Many- 
Ponies,  who  played  the  part  of  the  beautiful  In- 
dian girl  who  died  so  grandly  in  The  Phantom 
Herd.  This  is  the  girl  who  plays  my  character 
leads."  Then  the  white  girl,  who  was  to  be  his 
leading  woman,  would  not  feel  that  she  was  the 
only  woman  in  the  company  who  could  do  good 
work  for  Luck. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  had  worked  in  pictures 
since  she  was  fifteen  and  did  only  "  atmosphere 
stuff  "  in  the  Indian  camps  of  Luck's  arranging. 
She  was  wise  in  the  ways  of  picture  jealousies. 
Already  she  was  jealous  of  this  slim  woman  with 
the  dark  hair  and  eyes  and  the  slow  smile  that 
always  caught  one's  attention  and  held  it.  She 
waited.  She  wanted  Wagalexa  Conka  to  call  her 
in  that  kindly,  imperious  voice  of  his  —  the  voice 
of  the  master.  This  leading  woman  would  see, 
then,  that  here  was  a  girl  more  beautiful  for  whom 
Luck  Lindsay  felt  the  affection  of  family  ties. 

She  waited,  flattened  against  the  wall,  listening 
to  every  word  that  was  spoken  in  that  buzzing 
group.  She  saw  the  last  bundle  taken  from  the 
machine,  and  she  saw  Luck's  head  and  shoulders 

28 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

disappear  within  the  tonneau,  making  sure  that  it 
was  the  last  bundle  and  that  nothing  had  been 
overlooked.  She  saw  the  driver  climb  in,  slam  the 
fore-door  shut  after  him  and  bend  above  the 
starter.  She  saw  the  machine  slide  out  of  the 
group  and  away  in  a  wide  circle  to  regain  the 
trail.  She  saw  the  group  break  and  start  off  in 
various  directions  as  duty  or  a  passing  interest  led. 
But  Wagalexa  Conka  never  once  seemed  to  remem- 
ber that  she  was  not  there.  Kever  once  did  he 
speak  her  name. 

Instead,  just  as  Rosemary  was  leading  the  way 
into  the  house,  this  slim  young  woman  they  called 
Jean  glanced  around  inquiringly.  "  I  thought 
you  had  a  squaw  working  for  you,"  she  said  in  that 
soft,  humorous  voice  of  hers.  "  The  one  who  did 
the  Indian  girl  in  The  Phantom  Herd.  Isn't  she 
here  any  more  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  Luck  stopped  with  one  foot  on  the 
porch.  "  Sure !  Where  is  Annie  ?  Anybody 
know?" 

"  She  was  around  here  just  before  you  came," 
said  Rosemary  carelessly.  "  I  don't  know  where 
she  went." 

29 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Hid  out,  I  reckon/'  Luck  commented.  "  In- 
juns are  heap  shy  of  meeting  strangers.  She'll 
show  up  after  a  little." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  stooped  and  slid  safely  past 
the  window  that  might  betray  her,  and  then  slipped 
away  behind  the  house.  She  waited,  and  she 
listened;  for  though  the  adobe  walls  were  thick, 
there  were  open  windows  and  her  hearing  was  keen. 
Within  was  animated  babel  and  much  laughter. 
But  not  once  again  did  Annie-Many-Ponies  hear 
her  name  spoken.  Not  once  again  did  Wagalexa 
Conka  remember  her.  Save  when  she,  that  slim 
woman  who  had  come  to  play  his  leads,  asked  to 
see  her,  she  had  been  wholly  forgotten.  Even  then 
she  had  been  named  a  squaw.  It  was  as  though 
they  had  been  speaking  of  a  horse.  They  did  not 
count  her  worthy  of  a  place  in  their  company,  they 
did  not  miss  her  voice  and  her  smile. 

"  Hid  out,"  Wagalexa  Conka  had  said.  Well, 
she  would  hide  out,  then  —  she,  the  daughter  of  a 
chief  of  the  Sioux;  she,  whom  Wagalexa  Conka 
had  been  glad  to  have  in  his  picture  when  he  was 
poor  and  had  no  money  to  pay  white  leading 
women.  But  now  he  had  much  money;  now  he 

30 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

could  come  in  a  big  automobile,  with  a  slim,  white 
leading  woman  and  a  camera  man  and  scenic  artist 
and  much  money  in  his  pocket ;  and  she  —  she  was 
just  a  squaw  who  had  hid  out,  and  who  would  show 
up  after  a  while  and  be  grateful  if  he  took  her  by 
the  hand  and  said,  "  How !  " 

With  so  many  persons  moving  eagerly  here  and 
there,  none  but  an  Indian  could  have  slipped  away 
from  that  house  and  from  the  ranch  without  being 
seen.  But  though  the  place  was  bald  and  open  to 
the  four  winds  save  for  a  few  detached  outbuild- 
ings, Annie-Many-Ponies  went  away  upon  the 
mesa  and  no  one  saw  her  go. 

She  did  not  dare  go  to  the  corral  for  her  horse. 
The  corral  was  in  plain  sight  of  the  house,  and  the 
eyes  of  Wagalexa  Conka  were  keen  as  the  eye  of 
the  Sioux,  his  foster  brothers.  He  would  see  her 
there.  He  would  call :  "  Annie,  come  here !  "  and 
she  would  go,  and  would  stand  submissive  before 
him,  and  would  be  glad  that  he  noticed  her;  for 
she  was  born  of  the  tribe  where  women  obey  their 
masters,  and  the  heritage  of  centuries  may  not  be 
lightly  lain  aside  like  an  outgrown  garment.  She 
felt  that  this  was  so ;  that  although  her  heart  might 

31 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

burn  with  resentment  because  he  had  forgotten  and 
must  be  reminded  by  a  strange  white  woman  that 
the  "  squaw  "  was  not  present,  still,  if  he  called 
her  she  must  go,  because  Wagalexa  Conka  was  mas- 
ter there  and  the  master  must  be  obeyed. 

Down  the  dry  wash  where  Applehead  had 
hunted  for  baling  wire  she  went  swiftly,  with  the 
straight-backed,  free  stride  of  the  plainswoman 
who  knows  not  the  muscle-bondage  of  boned  girdle. 
In  moccasins  she  walked;  for  a  certain  pride  of 
race,  a  certain  sense  of  the  picture-value  of  beaded 
buckskin  and  bright  cloth,  held  her  fast  to  the  gala 
dress  of  her  people,  modified  and  touched  here  and 
there  with  the  gay  ornaments  of  civilization.  So 
much  had  her  work  in  the  silent  drama  taught  her. 
Bareheaded,  her  hair  in  two  glossy  braids  each 
tied  with  a  big  red  bow,  she  strode  on  and  on  in 
the  clear  sunlight  of  spring. 

i^ot  until  she  was  more  than  two  miles  from  the 
ranch  did  she  show  herself  upon  one  of  the  number- 
less small  ridges  which,  blended  together  in  the  dis- 
tance, give  that  deceptive  look  of  flatness  to  the 
mesa.  Even  two  miles  away,  in  that  clear  air  that 
dwarfs  distance  so  amazingly,  Wagalexa  Conka 

32 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

might  recognize  her  if  he  looked  at  her  with  suf- 
ficient attention.  But  Wagalexa  Conka,  she  told 
herself  with  a  flash  of  her  black  eyes,  would  not 
look.  Wagalexa  Conka  was  too  busy  looking  at 
that  slim  woman  he  had  brought  with  him. 

That  ridge  she  crossed,  and  two  others.  On  the 
last  one  she  stopped  and  stood,  straight  and  still, 
and  stared  away  towards  the  mountains,  shading 
her  eyes  with  one  spread  palm.  On  a  distant  slope 
a  small  herd  of  cattle  fed,  scattered  and  at  peace. 
Nearer,  a  great  hawk  circled  slowly  on  wide- 
spread wings,  his  neck  craned  downward  as  if  he 
were  watching  his  own  shadow  move  ghostlike  over 
the  grass.  Annie-Many-Ponies,  turning  her  eyes 
disappointedly  from  the  empty  mesa,  envied  the 
hawk  his  swift-winged  freedom. 

When  she  looked  again  toward  the  far  slopes 
next  the  mountains,  a  black  speck  rolled  into  view, 
the  nucleus  of  a  little  dust  cloud.  Her  face  bright- 

*  -""> 

ened  a  little ;  she  turned  abruptly  and  sought  easy 
footing  down  that  ridge,  and  climbed  hurriedly  the 
longer  rise  beyond.  Once  or  twice,  when  she  was 
on  high  ground,  she  glanced  behind  her  uneasily, 
as  does  one  whose  mind  holds  a  certain  conscious- 

33 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ness  of  wrongdoing.  She  did  not  pause,  even  then, 
but  hurried  on  toward  the  dust  cloud. 

On  the  rim  of  a  shallow,  saucer-like  basin  that 
lay  cunningly  concealed  until  one  stood  upon  the 
very  edge  of  it,  Annie-Many-Ponies  stopped  again 
and  stood  looking  out  from  under  her  spread  palm. 
Presently  the  dust  cloud  moved  over  the  crest  of  a 
ridge,  and  now  that  it  was  so  much  closer  she  saw 
clearly  the  horseman  loping  abreast  of  the  dust. 
Annie-Many-Ponies  stood  for  another  moment 
watching,  with  that  inscrutable  half  smile  on  her 
lips.  She  untied  the  cerise  silk  kerchief  which 
she  wore  knotted  loosely  around  her  slim  neck, 
waited  until  the  horseman  showed  plainly  in  the 
distance  and  then,  raising  her  right  hand  high 
above  her  head,  waved  the  scarf  three  times  in  slow, 
sweeping  half  circles  from  right  to  left.  She 
waited,  her  eyes  fixed  expectantly  upon  the  horse- 
man. Like  a  startled  rabbit  he  darted  to  the  left, 
pulled  in  his  horse,  turned  and  rode  for  three  or 
four  jumps  sharply  to  the  right ;  stopped  short  for 
ten  seconds  and  then  came  straight  on,  spurring 
his  horse  to  a  swifter  pace. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  smiled  and  went  down  into 
34 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  CHIEF 

the  shallow  basin  and  seated  herself  upon  the  wide, 
adobe  curbing  of  an  old  well  that  marked,  with  the 
nearby  ruins  of  an  adobe  house,  the  site  of  an  old 
habitation  of  tragic  history.  She  waited  with  the 
absolute  patience  of  her  race  for  the  horseman  had 
yet  a  good  two  miles  to  cover.  While  she  waited 
she  smiled  dreamily  to  herself  and  with  dainty 
little  pats  and  pulls  she  widened  the  flaring  red 
bows  on  her  hair  and  retied  the  cerise  scarf  in  its 
picturesque,  loose  knot  about  her  throat.  As  a 
final  tribute  to  that  feminine  instinct  which  knows 
no  race  she  drew  from  some  cunningly  devised 
hiding  place  a  small,  cheap  "  vanity  box,"  and  pro- 
ceeded very  gravely  to  powder  her  nose. 


35 


CHAPTER  III 

TO   THE   VICTOBS    THE    SPOILS 

"T_TEY,  boys!"  Luck  Lindsay  shouted  to 
A  A  Applehead  and  one  or  two  of  the  Happy 
Family  who  were  down  at  the  chuck-wagon  en- 
gaged in  uneasy  discussion  as  to  what  Luck  would 
say  when  he  found  out  about  their  intention  to 
leave.  "  Come  on  up  here  —  this  is  going  to  be  a 
wiping  out  of  old  scores  and  I  want  to  get  it  over 
with!" 

"  Well,  now,  I  calc'late  the  fur's  about  to  fly," 
Applehead  made  dismal  prophecy,  as  they  started 
to  obey  the  summons.  "  All  't  su'prises  me  is  't 
he's  held  off  this  long.  Two  hours  is  a  dang  long 
time  fer  Luck  to  git  in  action,  now  I'm  tellin' 
yuh !  "  He  took  off  his  hat  and  polished  his  shiny 
pate,  as  was  his  habit  when  perturbed.  "  I'm 
shore  glad  we  had  t'  wait  and  set  them  wagon- 
tires,"  he  added.  "  We'd  bin  started  this  mornin* 
only  fer  that." 

36 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

"  Aw,  we  ain't  done  nothing,"  Happy  Jack  pro- 
tested in  premature  self  defense.  "  We  ain't  left 
the  ranch  yet.  I  guess  a  feller's  got  a  right  to 
think!" 

"  He  has,  if  he's  got  anything  to  do  it  with," 
Pink  could  not  forbear  to  remark  pointedly. 

"  Well,  if  a  feller  didn't  have,  he'd  have  a  fat 
chance  berrying  from  you,"  Happy  Jack  retorted. 

"  Well,  by  cripes,  I  ain't  perpared  to  bet  very 
high  that  there's  a  teacupful  uh  brains  in  this  hull 
outfit,"  Big  Medicine  asserted.  "  We  might  a 
knowed  Luck'd  come  back  loaded  fer  bear;  we 
would  a  knowed  it  if  we  had  any  brains  in  our 
heads.  I'm  plumb  sore  at  myself.  By  cripes,  I 
need  kickin' !  " 

"  You'll  get  it,  chances  are,"  Pink  assured  him 
grimly. 

Luck  was  in  the  living  room,  sitting  at  a  table 
on  which  were  scattered  many  papers  scribbled 
with  figures.  He  had  a  cigarette  in  his  lips,  his 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  a  twinkle  in  his 
eyes.  He  looked  up  and  grinned  as  they  came  re- 
luctantly into  the  room. 

"  Time's  money  from  now  on,  so  this  is  going  to 
37 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

be  cut  short  as  possible,"  be  began  with  his  usual 
dynamic  energy  showing  in  his  tone  and  in  the 
movements  of  his  hands  as  he  gathered  up  the 
papers  and  evened  their  edges  on  the  table  top. 
"  You  fellows  know  how  much  you  put  into  the 
game  when  we  started  out  to  come  here  and  pro- 
duce The  Phantom  Herd,  don't  you?  If  you 
don't,  I've  got  the  figures  here.  I  guess  the  re- 
turns are  all  in  on  that  picture  —  and  so  far  she's 
brought  us  twenty-three  thousand  and  four  hun- 
dred dollars.  She  went  big,  believe  me!  I  sold 
thirty  states.  Well,  cost  of  production  is  —  what 
we  put  in  the  pool,  plus  the  cost  of  making  the 
prints  I  got  in  Los.  "We  pull  out  the  profits  ac- 
cording to  what  we  put  in  —  sabe  ?  I  guess  that 
suits  everybody,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Sure,"  one  astonished  voice  gulped  faintly. 
The  others  were  dumb. 

"  Well,  I've  figured  it  out  that  way  —  and  to 
make  sure  I  had  it  right  I  got  Billy  Wilders,  a 
pal  of  mine  that  works  in  a  bank  there,  to  figure  it 
himself  and  check  up  after  me.  We  all  put  in  our 
services  —  one  man's  work  against  every  other 
man's  work,  mine  same  as  any  of  you.  Bill 

38 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

Holmes,  here,  didn't  have  any  money  up,  and  he 
was  an  apprentice  —  but  I'm  giving  him  twenty  a 
week  besides  his  board.  That  suit  you,  Bill  ?  " 

"  I  guess  it's  all  right,"  Bill  answered  in  his 
colorless  tone. 

Luck,  being  extremely  sensitive  to  tones,  cocked 
an  eye  up  at  Bill  before  he  deliberately  peeled, 
from  the  roll  he  drew  from  his  pocket,  enough 
twenty  dollar  notes  to  equal  the  number  of  weeks 
Bill  had  worked  for  him.  "  And  that's  paying  you 
darned  good  money  for  apprentice  work,"  he  in- 
formed him  drily,  a  little  hurt  by  Bill's  lack  of 
appreciation.  For  when  you  take  a  man  from  the 
streets  because  he  is  broke  and  hungry  and  home- 
less, and  feed  him  and  give  him  work  and  clothes 
and  three  meals  a  day  and  a  warm  bed  to  sleep  in, 
if  you  are  a  normal  human  being  you  are  going  to 
expect  a  little  gratitude  from  that  man ;  Luck  had 
a  flash  of  disappointment  when  he  saw  how  indif- 
ferently Bill  Holmes  took  those  twenties  and 
counted  them  before  shoving  them  into  his  pocket. 
His  own  voice  was  more  crisply  businesslike  when 
he  spoke  again. 

"Annie-Many-Ponies  back  yet?  She's  not  in 
39 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

on  the  split  either.  I'm  paying  her  ten  a  week 
besides  her  board.  That's  good  money  for  a 
squaw."  He  counted  out  the  amount  in  ten  dollar 
bills  and  snapped  a  rubber  band  around  them. 

"  Now  here  is  the  profit,  boys,  on  your  winter's 
work.  Applehead  comes  in  with  the  use  of  his 
ranch  and  stock  and  wagons  and  so  on.  Here, 
pard  —  how  does  this  look  to  you?"  His  own 
pleasure  in  what  he  was  doing  warmed  from  Luck's 
voice  all  the  chill  that  Bill  Holmes  had  sent  into 
it.  He  smiled  his  contagious  smile  and  peeled  off 
fifty  dollar  banknotes  until  Applehead's  eyes 
popped. 

"  Oh,  don't  give  me  so  dang  much !  "  he  gulped 
nervously  when  Luck  had  counted  out  for  him  the 
amount  he  had  jotted  down  opposite  his  name. 
"  That  there's  more'n  the  hul  dang  ranch  is  worth 
if  I  was  t'  deed  it  over  to  yuh,  Luck !  I  ain't  goin' 
to  take  — " 

"  You  shut  up,"  Luck  commanded  him  affec- 
tionately, "  That's  yours  —  now,  close  your  face 
and  let  me  get  this  thing  wound  up.  Now  —  will 
you  quit  your  arguing,  or  shall  I  throw  you  out  the 
window  ?  " 

40 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

"  Well,  now,  I  calc'late  you'd  have  a  right  busy 
time  throwin'  me  out  the  window,"  Applehead 
boasted,  and  backed  into  a  corner  to  digest  this 
astonishing  turn  of  events. 

One  by  one,  as  their  names  stood  upon  his  list, 
Luck  called  the  boys  forward  and  with  exaggerated 
deliberation  peeled  off  fifty-dollar  notes  and  one- 
hundred-dollar  notes  to  take  their  breath  and 
speech  from  them. 

With  Billy  Wilders,  his  friend  in  the  bank,  to 
help  him,  he  had  boyishly  built  that  roll  for  just 
this  heart-warming  little  ceremony.  He  might 
have  written  checks  to  square  the  account  of  each, 
but  he  wanted  to  make  their  eyes  stand  out,  just  as 
he  was  doing.  He  had  looked  forward  to  this  half 
hour  more  eagerly  than  any  of  them  guessed;  he 
had,  with  his  eyes  closed,  visualized  this  scene  over 
more  than  one  cigarette,  his  memory  picturing 
vividly  another  scene  wherein  these  same  young 
men  had  cheerfully  emptied  their  pockets  and 
planned  many  small  personal  sacrifices  that  he, 
Luck  Lindsay,  might  have  money  enough  to  come 
here  to  New  Mexico  and  make  his  one  Big  Pic- 
ture. Luck  felt  that  nothing  less  than  a  display 

41 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

of  the  profits  in  real  money  could  ever  quite  bal- 
ance that  other  scene  when  all  the  Happy  Family 
had  in  the  world  went  in  the  pot  and  they  mourned 
because  it  was  so  little. 

"  Aw,  I  betche  Luck  robbed  a  bank  er  some- 
thing !  "  Happy  Jack  stuttered  with  an  awkward 
attempt  to  conceal  his  delight  when  his  name  was 
called,  his  investment  was  read  and  the  little  sheaf 
of  currency  that  represented  his  profit  was  laid  in 
his  outstretched  palm. 

"  It's  me  for  the  movies  if  this  is  the  way  they 
pan  out,"  Weary  declared  gleefully.  "  Mamma ! 
I  didn't  know  there  was  so  much  money  in  the 
world!" 

"  I'll  bet  he  milked  Los  Angeles  dry  of  paper 
money,"  Andy  Green  asserted  facetiously,  thumb- 
ing his  small  fortune  gloatingly.  "  Holding  out 
anything  for  yourself,  Luck?  We  don't  want  to 
be  hogs." 

"  I'm  taking  care  of  my  interests  —  don't  you 
worry  about  that  a  minute,"  Luck  stated  com- 
placently. "  I  held  mine  out  first.  That  wipes 
the  slate  —  and  cleans  up  the  bank-roll.  I  main- 
tain The  Phantom  Herd  was  so-o-ome  picture,  boys. 

42 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

They'll  be  getting  it  here  in  'Querque  soon  —  we'll 
all  go  in  and  see  it. 

"  Now  we're  all  set  for  a  fresh  start.  And 
while  you're  all  here  I'll  just  put  you  up  to  date 
on  what  kind  of  a  deal  I  made  with  Dewitt.  We 
come  in  under  the  wing  of  Excelsior,  and  our 
brand  name  will  be  Flying  U  Feature  Films  — 
how  does  that  hit  you?  You  boys  are  all  on  a 
straight  board-and-salary  basis  —  thirty  dollars  a 
week,  and  it's  up  to  me  to  make  you  earn  it !  "  He 
grinned  and  beckoned  to  Jean  Douglas  Avery  and 
her  companions  in  the  next  room. 

"  Mrs.  Avery,  here,  is  our  leading  woman  — 
keeping  the  name  of  Jean  Douglas,  since  she  made 
it  valuable  in  that  Lazy  A  serial  she  did  a  year  or 
so  ago.  Lite  is  on  the  same  footing  as  the  rest  of 
you  boys.  Her  father  will  be  my  assistant  in 
choosing  locations  and  so  on.  Tommy  Johnson, 
as  I  said,  is  another  assistant  in  another  capacity, 
that  of  scenic  artist  and  stage  carpenter.  Pete 
Lowry,  here,  is  camera  man  and  Bill  Holmes  will 
be  his  assistant.  The  rest  of  you  work  wherever 
I  need  you  —  a  good  deal  the  way  we  did  last  win- 
ter. Annie-Many-Ponies  stays  with  us  as  charac- 

43 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

tor  lead  and  is  in  general  stock.  Rosemary  — "  he 
•topped  and  smiled  at  her  understandingly — 
"  Rosemary  draws  fifteen  a  week  — -  oh,  don't  get 
scared!  I  won't  give  you  any  foreground  stuff! 
just  atmosphere  when  I  need  it,  and  general  com- 
forter and  mascot  of  the  company !  " 

Luck  may  have  stretched  a  point  there,  but  if 
he  did  it  was  merely  a  technical  one.  Rosemary 
Green  was  hopelessly  camera-shy,  but  he  could  use 
her  in  background  atmosphere,  and  when  it  came 
to  looking  after  the  physical  and  mental  welfare 
of  the  bunch  she  was  worth  her  weight  in  any 
precious  metal  you  may  choose  to  name. 

"  You  better  put  me  down  as  camp  cook  and 
dishwasher,  Luck  Lindsay,"  Rosemary  protested, 
blushing. 

"  No  —  thank  the  Lord  you  won't  have  to  cook 
for  this  hungry  bunch  any  longer.  I've  got  a 
Mexican  hired  and  headed  this  way.  There'll  be 
no  more  of  that  kind  of  thing  for  you,  lady  —  not 
while  you're  with  us. 

"  Now,  boys,  let's  get  organized  for  action. 
Weather's  perfect  —  Lowry's  been  raving  over  the 
light,  all  the  way  out  from  town.  I've  got  a  range 

44 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

picture  all  blocked  out  —  did  it  while  I  was  wait- 
ing in  Los  for  Jean  to  show  up.  Done  anything 
ahout  roundup  yet,  Applehead  ?  " — 

Poor  old  Applehead,  with  his  guilty  conscience 
and  his  soft-hearted  affection  for  Luck  so  deeply 
stirred  by  the  money  laid  in  his  big-knuckled  hand, 
shuffled  his  feet  and  cleared  his  throat  and  did  not 
get  one  intelligible  word  past  his  dry  tongue. 

"  If  you  haven't,"  Luck  hurried  on,  spurred  by 
his  inpatient  energy,  "  I  want  to  organize  and  get 
out  right  away  with  a  regular  roundup  outfit  — 
chuck-wagon,  remuda  and  all  —  see  what  I  mean  ? 
While  I'm  getting  the  picture  of  the  stuff  I  want, 
we  can  gather  and  brand  your  calves.  That  way, 
all  my  range  scenes  will  be  of  the  real  thing.  I 
may  want  to  throw  the  Chavez  outfit  in  with  ours, 
too,  so  as  to  get  bigger  stuff.  I'll  try  and  locate 
Ramon  Chavez  and  see  what  I  can  do.  But  any- 
wray,  I  want  the  roundup  outfit  ready  to  start  just 
as  soon  as  possible  —  tomorrow,  if  we  could  get 
it  together  in  time.  How  about  that  cracked 
tongue  on  the  chuck-wagon?  Anybody  ixed 
that?" 

"  We-ell,  I  wired  it  up  so'st  it's  as  aolid  as  the 
45 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

rest  uh  the  runnin'  gear,"  Applehead  confessed 
shamefacedly,  rolling  his  eyes  apprehensively  at 
the  flushed  faces  of  his  fellow  traitors. 

"Yuh  did?  Good!  Tires  need  setting,  if  I 
recollect  — " 

"  Er  —  I  had  the  boys  set  the  tires,  V — " 

"  Fine !  I  might  have  known  you  fellows  would 
put  things  in  shape  while  I  was  gone !  How  about 
the  horses  ?  I  thought  I  saw  a  bunch  in  the  big 
corral  — " 

"  I  rustled  enough  saddle  horses  to  give  us  all 
two  apiece,"  Applehead  admitted,  perspiring 
coldly.  "  'Tain't  much  of  a  string,  but  — " 

"  You  did  ?  Sounds  like  you've  been  reading 
my  mind,  Applehead.  Now  we'll  grubstake  the 
outfit  — " 

"  Er  —  well,  I  took  the  chuck-wagon  in  yest'day 
and  loaded  'er  up  with  grub  fer  two  weeks,"  blurted 
Applehead  heroically.  "  I  was  figurin' — " 

"  Good !  Couldn't  ask  better.  Applehead,  you 
sure  are  there  when  it  comes  to  backing  a  man's 
play.  If  I  haven't  said  much  about  how  I  stand 
toward  you  fellows  it  isn't  because  I  don't  appre- 
ciate every  durned  one  of  you." 

46 


TO  THE  VICTORS  THE  SPOILS 

The  Happy  Family  squirmed  guiltily  and  made 
way  for  Applehead,  who  was  sidling  toward  the 
open  door,  his  face  showing  alarming  symptoms  of 
apoplexy.  Their  confusion  Luck  set  down  to  a 
becoming  modesty.  He  went  on  planning  and  per- 
fecting details.  Standing  as  he  did  on  the  thres- 
hold of  a  career  to  which  his  one  big  success  had 
opened  the  door,  he  was  wholly  absorbed  in  mak- 
ing good. 

There  was  nothing  now  to  balk  his  progress,  he 
told  himself.  He  had  his  company,  he  had  the 
location  for  his  big  range  stuff,  he  had  all  the 
financial  backing  any  reasonable  man  could  want. 
He  had  a  salary  that  in  itself  gauged  the  prestige 
he  had  gained  among  producers,  and  as  an  added 
incentive  to  do  the  biggest  work  of  his  life  he  had 
a  contract  giving  him  a  royalty  on  all  prints  of  his 
pictures  in  excess  of  a  fixed  number.  Better  than 
all  this,  he  had  big  ideals  and  an  enthusiasm  for 
the  work  that  knew  no  limitations. 

Perhaps  he  was  inclined  to  dream  too  big;  per- 
haps he  assumed  too  great  an  enthusiasm  on  the 
part  of  those  who  worked  with  him  —  I  don't  know 
just  where  he  did  place  the  boundary  line.  I  do 

47 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

know  that  he  never  once  suspected  the  Happy 
Family  of  any  meditated  truancy  from  the  ranch 
and  his  parting  instructions  to  "  sit  tight."  I  also 
know  that  the  Happy  Family  was  not  at  all  likely 
to  rolunteer  information  of  their  lapse.  And  as 
for  Applehead,  the  money  burned  his  soul  deep 
with  remorse;  so  deep  that  he  went  around  with 
an  abject  eagerness  to  serve  Luck  that  touched  that 
young  man  as  a  rare  example  of  a  bone-deep  loy- 
alty that  knows  no  deceit.  Which  proves  once 
more  how  fortunate  it  is  that  we  cannot  always 
see  too  deeply  into  the  thoughts  and  motives  of  our 
friends. 


IXXVE    WOKDS    FOB   ANNIE 

I"N  Tijeras  Arroyo  the  moon  made  black  shad- 
ows where  stood  the  tiny  knolls  here  and  there, 
marking  frequently  the  windings  of  dry  washeft 
where  bushes  grew  in  ragged  patches  and  where 
tall  weeds  of  mid-May  tangled  in  the  wind.  The 
roundup  tents  of  the  Flying  U  Feature  Film  Com- 
pany stood  white  as  new  snow  in  the  moonlight, 
though  daylight  showed  them  an  odd,  light-blue 
tint  for  photographic  purposes.  On  a  farther 
slope  cunningly  placed  by  the  scenic  artist  to  catch 
the  full  sunlight  of  midday,  the  camp  of  the  Chavez 
brothers  gleamed  softly  in  the  magic  light 

So  far  had  spring  roundup  progressed  that  Lnck 
was  holding  the  camp  in  Tijeras  Arroyo  for 
picture-making  only.  Applehead's  calves  were 
branded,  to  the  youngest  pair  of  knock-kneed  twin* 
which  Happy  Jack  found  curled  up  together  emn- 

49 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ningly  hidden  in  a  thicket.  They  had  been  hon- 
ored with  a  "  close-up  "  scene,  those  two  spotted 
calves,  and  were  destined  to  further  honors  which 
they  did  not  suspect  and  could  not  appreciate. 

They  slept  now,  as  slept  the  two  camps  upon 
the  two  slopes  that  lay  moon-bathed  at  midnight. 
Back  where  the  moon  was  making  the  barren  moun- 
tains a  wonderland  of  deep  purple  and  black  and 
silvery  gray  and  brown,  a  coyote  yapped  a  falsetto 
message  and  was  answered  by  one  nearer  at  hand 
—  his  mate,  it  might  be.  In  a  bush  under  the 
bank  that  made  of  it  a  black  blot  in  the  unearthly 
whiteness  of  the  sand,  a  little  bird  fluttered  un- 
easily and  sent  a  small,  inquiring  chirp  into  the 
stillness.  From  somewhere  farther  up  the  arroyo 
drifted  a  faint,  aromatic  odor  of  cigarette  smoke. 

Had  you  been  there  by  the  bush  you  could  not 
have  told  when  Annie-Many-Ponies  passed  by ;  you 
would  not  have  seen  her  —  certainly  you  could  not 
have  heard  the  soft  tread  of  her  slim,  moccasined 
feet.  Yet  she  passed  the  bush  and  the  bank  and 
went  away  up  the  arroyo,  silent  as  the  shadows 
themselves,  swift  as  the  coyote  that  trotted  over  a 
nearby  ridge  to  meet  her  mate  nearer  the  moun- 

50 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

tains.  So,  following  much  the  same  instinct  in. 
much  the  same  way,  Annie-Many-Ponies  stole  out 
to  meet  the  man  her  heart  timidly  yearned  for  as 
a  possible  mate. 

She  reached  the  rock-ledge  where  the  smoke 
odor  was  strongest,  and  she  stopped.  She  saw  Ea- 
mon  Chavez,  younger  of  the  Chavez  brothers  who 
were  ten-mile-off  neighbors  of  Applehead,  and  who 
owned  many  cattle  and  much  land  by  right  of  an 
old  Spanish  grant.  He  was  standing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  ledge,  leaning  against  it  as  they  of 
sun-saturated  New  Mexico  always  lean  against 
anything  perpendicular  and  solid  near  which  they 
happen  to  stand.  He  was  watching  the  white- 
lighted  arroyo  while  he  smoked,  waiting  for  her, 
unconscious  of  her  near  presence. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  stood  almost  within  reach 
of  him,  but  she  did  not  make  her  presence  known. 
With  the  infinite  wariness  of  her  race  she  waited 
to  see  what  he  would  do;  to  read,  if  she  might, 
what  were  his  thoughts  —  his  attitude  toward  her 
in  his  unguarded  moments.  That  little,  in- 
scrutable smile  which  so  exasperated  Applehead 
was  on  her  lips  while  she  watched  him. 

51 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

Ramon  finished  that  cigarette,  threw  away  the 
stub  and  rolled  and  lighted  another.  Still  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  gave  no  little  sign  of  her  presence. 
He  watched  the  arroyo,  and  once  he  leaned  to  one 
side  and  stared  back  at  his  own  quiet  camp  on 
the  slope  that  had  the  biggest  and  the  wildest 
mountain  of  that  locality  for  its  background.  He 
settled  himself  anew  with  his  other  shoulder 
against  the  rock,  and  muttered  something  in  Span- 
ish—  that  strange,  musical  talk  which  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  could  not  understand.  And  still  she 
watched  him,  and  exulted  in  his  impatience  for  her 
coming,  and  wondered  if  it  would  always  be  love- 
light  which  she  would  see  in  his  eyes. 

He  was  not  of  her  race,  though  in  her  pride  she 
thought  him  favored  when  she  named  him  akin  to 
the  Sioux.  He  was  not  of  her  race,  but  he  was 
tall  and  he  was  straight,  he  was  dark  as  she,  he  was 
strong  and  brave  and  he  had  many  cattle  and  much 
broad  acreage.  Annie-Many-Ponies  smiled  upon 
him  in  the  dark  and  was  glad  that  she,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  chief  of  the  Sioux,  had  been  found  good 
in  his  sight. 

Five  minutes,  ten  minutes.  The  coyote,  yap- 
52 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

yap-yapping  in  the  broken  land  beyond  them,  found 
his  mate  and  was  silent.  Ramon  Chavez,  waiting 
in  the  shadow  of  the  ledge,  muttered  a  Mexican 
oath  and  stepped  out  into  the  moonlight  and  stood 
there,  tempted  to  return  to  his  camp  —  for  he, 
also,  had  pride  that  would  not  bear  much  bruising. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  waited.  When  he  muttered 
again  and  threw  his  cigarette  from  him  as  though 
it  had  been  something  venomous ;  when  he  turned 
his  face  toward  his  own  tents  and  took  a  step  for- 
ward, she  laughed  softly,  a  mere  whisper  of  amuse- 
ment that  might  have  been  a  sleepy  breeze  stirring 
the  bushes  somewhere  near.  Eamon  started  and 
turned  his  face  her  way ;  in  the  moonlight  his  eyes 
shone  with  a  certain  love-hunger  which  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  exulted  to  see  —  because  she  did  not 
understand. 

"  You  not  let  moon  look  on  you,"  she  chided  in 
an  undertone,  her  sentences  clipped  of  superfluous 
words  as  is  the  Indian  way,  her  voice  that  pure, 
throaty  melody  that  is  a  gift  which  nature  gives 
lavishly  to  the  women  of  savage  people.  "  Moon 
see,  men  see." 

Eamon  swung  back  into  the  shadow,  reached  out 
53 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

his  two  arms  to  fold  her  close  and  got  nothing  more 
substantial  than  another  whispery  laugh. 

"  Where  are  yoh,  sweetheart  ?  "  He  peered  into 
the  shadow  where  she  had  been,  and  saw  the  place 
empty.  He  laughed,  chagrined  by  her  elusiveness, 
yet  hungering  for  her  the  more. 

"  You  not  touch,"  she  warned.  "  Till  priest  say 
marriage  prayers,  no  man  touch." 

He  called  her  a  devil  in  Spanish,  and  she  thought 
it  a  love-word  and  laughed  and  came  nearer.  He 
did  not  attempt  to  touch  her,  and  so,  reassured, 
she  stood  close  so  that  he  could  see  the  pure,  In- 
dian profile  of  her  face  when  she  raised  it  to  the 
sky  in  a  mute  invocation,  it  might  be,  of  her  gods. 

"  When  yoh  come  ?  "  he  asked  swiftly,  his  race 
betrayed  in  tone  and  accent.  "  I  look  and  look  — 
I  no  see  yoh." 

"  I  come,"  she  stated  with  a  quiet  meaning.  "  I 
not  like  cow,  for  make  plenty  noise.  I  stand  here, 
you  smoke  two  times,  I  look." 

"  You  mus'  be  moonbeam,"  he  told  her,  reach- 
ing out  again,  only  to  lay  hold  upon  nothing. 
"  Come  back,  sweetheart.  I  be  good." 

"  I  not  like  you  touch,"  she  repeated.  "  I  good 
54 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

girl.  I  mind  priest,  I  read  prayers,  I  mind  Wa- 
galexa  Conka  — "  There  she  faltered,  for  the  last 
boast  was  no  longer  the  truth. 

Eamon  was  quick  to  seize  upon  the  one  weak 
point  of  her  armor.  "  So  ?  He  send  yoh  then 
to  talk  with  Ramon  at  midnight?  Yoh  come  to 
please  yoh  boss  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  turned  her  troubled  face  his 
way.  "  Wagalexa  Conka  sleep  plenty.  I  not 
ask,"  she  confessed.  "  You  tell  me  come  here  — 
you  tell  me  must  talk  when  no  one  hear.  I  come. 
I  no  ask  Wagalexa  Conka  —  him  say  good  girl 
stay  by  camp.  Him  say  not  walk  in  night-time, 
say  me  not  talk  you.  I  no  ask ;  I  just  come." 

"  Yoh  lov'  him,  perhaps  ?  More  as  yoh  lov' 
me  ?  Always  I  see  yoh  look  at  him  —  always 
watch,  watch.  Always  I  see  yoh  jomp  when  he 
snap  the  finger;  always  yoh  run  like  train  dog. 
Yoh  lov'  him,  perhaps?  Bah!  Yoh  dirt  onder 
his  feet."  Ramon  did  not  seriously  consider  that 
any  woman  whom  he  favored  could  sanely  love 
another  man  more  than  himself,  but  to  his  nature 
jealousy  was  a  necessary  adjunct  of  lovemaking; 
not  to  have  displayed  jealousy  would  have  been  to 

55 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

betray  indifference,  as  he  interpreted  the  tender 
passion. 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  woman-wily  though  she  was 
by  nature,  had  little  learning  in  the  devious  ways 
of  lovemaking.  Eyes  might  speak,  smiles  might 
half  reveal,  half  hide  her  thoughts ;  but  the  tongue, 
as  her  tribe  had  taught  her  sternly,  must  speak 
the  truth  or  keep  silent.  ISTow  she  bent  her  head, 
puzzling  how  best  to  put  her  feelings  toward  Luck 
Lindsay  into  honest  words  which  Eamon  would 
understand. 

"  Yoh  lov'  him,  perhaps  —  since  yoh  all  time 
afraid  he  be  mad."  Eamon  persisted,  beating 
against  the  wall  of  her  Indian  taciturnity  which 
always  acted  as  a  spur  upon  his  impetuosity.  Be- 
sides, it  was  important  to  him  that  he  should  know 
just  what  was  the  tie  between  these  two.  He  had 
heard  Luck  Lindsay  speak  to  the  girl  in  the  Sioux 
tongue.  He  had  seen  her  eyes  lighten  as  she  made 
swift  answer.  He  had  seen  her  always  eager  to 
do  Luck's  bidding  —  had  seen  her  anticipate  his 
wants  and  minister  to  them  as  though  it  was  her 
duty  and  her  pleasure  to  do  so.  It  was  vital  that 
he  should  know,  and  it  was  certain  that  he  could 

56 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

not  question  Luck  upon  the  subject  —  for  Ramon 
Chavez  was  no  fool. 

"  Long  time  ago  —  when  I  was  papoose  with  no 
shoes,"  she  began  with  seeming  irrelevance,  her 
eyes  turning  instinctively  toward  the  white  tents 
of  the  Flying  U  camp  gleaming  in  the  distance, 
"my  people  go  for  work  in  Buffalo  Bill  show. 
My  father  go,  my  mother  go,  I  go.  All  time  we 
dance  for  show,  make  Indian  fight  with  cowboys 
—  all  them  act  for  Buffalo  Bill-Pawnee  Bill  show. 
That  time  Wagalexa  Conka  boss  of  Indians.  He 
Indian  Agent.  He  take  care  whole  bunch.  He 
make  peace  when  fights,  he  give  med'cine  when 
somebody  sick.  He  awful  good  to  them  Indians. 
He  give  me  candy,  always  stop  to  talk  me.  I  like 
him.  My  father  like  him.  All  them  Indians  like 
him  plenty  much.  My  father  awful  sick  one  time, 
he  no  let  doctor  come.  Leg  broke  all  in  pieces. 
He  say  die  plenty  if  Wagalexa  Conka  no  make 
well.  I  go  ticket  wagon,  tell  Wagalexa  Conka,  he 
come  quick,  fix  up  leg  all  right. 

"  All  them  Indians  like  to  make  him  — '  She 
stopped,  searching  her  mind  for  the  elusive,  little- 
used  word  which  she  had  learned  in  the  mission 

57 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

school.  "  Make  him  adop',"  she  finished  triumph- 
antly. "  Indians  make  much  dance,  plenty  music, 
lots  speeches  —  make  him  Indian  man.  My  fa- 
ther big  chief,  he  make  Wagalexa  Conka  him  son. 
Make  him  my  brother.  Give  him  Indian  name 
Wagalexa  Conka.  All  Indians  call  that  name  for 
him. 

"  Pretty  soon  show  stop,  all  them  Indians  go 
home  by  reservation.  Long  time  we  don't  see 
Wagalexa  Conka  no  more.  I  get  big  girl,  go 
school  little  bit.  Pretty  soon  Wagalexa  Conka 
come  back,  for  wants  them  Indians  for  work  in 
pictures.  My  father  go,  my  mother  go,  all  us  go. 
We  work  long  time.  I,"  she  added  with  naive 
pride  in  her  comeliness,  "  awful  good  looking.  I 
do  lots  of  foreground  stuff.  Pretty  soon  hard 
times  come.  Indians  go  home  by  reservation.  I 
go  —  I  don't  like  them  reservations  no  more.  Too 
lonesome.  I  like  for  work  all  time  in  pictures. 
I  come,  tell  Wagalexa  Conka  I  be  Indian  girl  for 
pictures.  He  write  letter  for  agent,  write  letter 
for  my  father.  They  writes  letter  for  say  yes,  I 
stay.  I  stay  and  do  plenty  more  foreground 
stuff." 

58 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

"  I  don't  see  you  do  moch  foreground  work  since 
that  white  girl  come,"  Ramon  observed,  hitting 
what  he  instinctively  knew  was  a  tender  point. 

Had  he  seen  her  face,  he  must  have  been  satis- 
fled  that  the  chance  shot  struck  home.  But  in  the 
shadow  hate  blazed  unseen  from  her  eyes.  She 
did  not  speak,  and  so  he  went  back  to  his  first 
charge. 

"All  this  don't  tell  me  moch,"  he  complained. 
"  Yoh  lov'  him,  maybe  ?  That's  what  I  ask." 

"Wagalexa  Conka  my  brother,  my  father,  my 
friend,"  she  replied  calmly,  and  let  him  interpret 
it  as  he  would. 

"  He  treats  yoh  like  a  dog.  He  crazee  'bout 
that  Jean.  He  gives  her  all  smiles,  all  what  yoh 
call  foreground  stuff.  I  know  —  I  got  eyes.  Me, 
it  makes  me  mad  for  see  how  he  treat  yoh  —  and 
yoh  so  trying  hard  always  to  please.  He  got  no 
heart  for  yoh  —  me,  I  see  that."  He  moved  a 
step  closer,  hesitating,  wanting  yet  not  quite  dar- 
ing to  touch  her.  "  Me,  I  lov'  yoh,  little  Annie," 
he  murmured.  "  Yoh  lov'  me  little  bit,  eh  ?  Jus' 
little  bit !  Jus'  for  say,  '  Eamon,  I  go  weeth  yoh, 
I  be  yoh  woman  • — '  '' 

59 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

Annie-Many-Ponies  widened  the  distance  be- 
tween them.  "  Why  you  not  say  wife  ? "  she 
queried  suspiciously. 

"  Woman,  wife,  sweetheart  —  all  same,"  he  as- 
sured her  with  his  voice  like  a  caress.  "  All  words 
mean  I  lov'  yoh  jus'  same.  Now  yoh  say  yoh  lov' 
me,  say  yoh  go  weeth  me,  I  be  one  happy  man.  I 
go  back  on  camp  and  my  heart  she's  singing  lov'- 
song.  My  girl  weeth  eyes  that  shine  so  bright,  she 
lov'  me  moch  as  I  lov'  her.  That  what  my  heart 
she  sing.  Yoh  not  be  so  cruel  like  stone  —  yoh 
say,  'Eamon,  I  lov'  yoh.'  Jus'  like  that!  So 
easy  to  say !  " 

"  Not  easy,"  she  denied,  moved  to  save  her  free- 
dom yet  a  while  longer.  "  I  say  them  words,  then 
I  —  then  I  not  be  same  girl  like  now.  Maybe 
much  troubles  come.  Maybe  much  happy  —  I 
duimo.  Lots  time  I  see  plenty  trouble  come  for 
girl  that  say  them  words  for  man.  Some  time 
plenty  happy  —  I  think  trouble  comes  most  many 
times.  I  think  Wagalexa  Conka  he  be  awful  mad. 
I  not  like  for  hims  be  mad." 

"  Now  you  make  me  mad  —  Ramon  what  loves 
yoh!  Yoh  like  for  Eamon  be  mad,  perhaps? 

60 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

Always  yoh  'fraid  Luck  Lindsay  this,  'fraid  Luck 
that  other.  Me,  I  gets  damn'  sick  hear  that  talk 
all  time.  Bimeby  he  marree  som'  girl,  then  what 
for  you  ?  He  don'  maree  yoh,  eh  ?  He  don'  lov' 
yoh ;  he  think  too  good  for  maree  Indian  girl.  Me, 
I  not  think  like  that.  I,  Kamon  Chavez,  I  think 
proud  to  lov'  yoh.  Eamon  — " 

"  I  not  think  Wagalexa  Conka  marry  me."  The 
girl  was  turning  stubborn  under  his  importunities. 
"  Wagalexa  Conka  my  brother  —  my  friend.  I 
tell  you  plenty  time.  Now  I  tell  no  more." 

"  Eamon  loves  yoh  so  moch,"  he  pleaded,  and 
smiled  to  himself  when  he  saw  her  turn  toward 
him  again.  The  love-talk  —  that  was  what  a 
woman  likes  best  to  hear !  "  Yoh  say  yoh  lov' 
Ramon  jus'  little  bit !  " 

"  I  not  say  now.  When  I  say  I  be  sure  I  say 
truth." 

"  All  right,  then  I  be  sad  till  yoh  say  yoh  lov' 
me.  Yoh  maybe  be  happy,  yoh  know  Eamon's 
got  heavy  heart  for  yoh." 

"  I  plenty  sorry,  you  be  sad  for  me,"  she  con- 
fessed demurely. 

"  I  lov'  yoh  so  moch !  I  think  nothing  but  how 
61 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

beautiful  my  sweetheart  is.  I  not  tease  yoh  no 
more.  Tell  me,  how  long  Luck  says  he  stay  out 
here  ?  Maybe  yoh  hear  sometimes  he's  going  for 
taking  pictures  in  town  ?  " 

"  I  not  hear." 

"Going  home,  maybe?  You  mus'  hear  little 
bit.  Yoh  tell  me,  sweetheart;  what's  he  gone  do 
when  roundup's  all  finish  ?  Me,  I  know  she's  fin- 
ish las'  week.  Looks  like  he's  taking  pictures  out 
here  all  summer!  You  hear  him  say  something, 
maybe?" 

"  I  not  hear." 

"  Them  vaqueros  —  bah !  They  don't  hear 
nothings  either.  What's  matter  over  there,  no- 
body hear  nothing  ?  Luck,  he  got  no  tongue  when 
camera's  shut  up,  perhaps  ?  " 

"Nah  —  I  dunno." 

Eamon  looked  at  her  for  a  minute  in  mute  rage. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  found  himself 
hard  against  the  immutable  reticence  of  the  In- 
dian in  her  nature. 

"  Why  you  snapping  teeth  like  a  wolf  ? "  she 
asked  him  slyly. 

"  Me  ?  I  don'  snap  my  teeth,  sweetheart."  It 
62 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

cost  Eamon  some  effort  to  keep  his  voice  softened 
to  the  love  key. 

"  Why  you  not  ask  Wagalexa  Conka  what  he 
do?" 

"  I  don'  care,  that's  why  I  don'  ask.  Me,  it's 
no  matter." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  evidently  weighing  a 
matter  of  more  importance  to  him  than  he  would 
have  Annie-Many-Ponies,  suspect.  "  Sweetheart, 
yoh  do  one  thing  for  Eamon  ?  "  His  voice  might 
almost  be  called  wheedling.  "  Me,  I'm  awful  busy 
tomorrow.  I  got  long  ride  away  off  —  to  my 
rancho.  I  got  to  see  my  brother  Tomas.  I  be 
back  here  not  before  night  Yoh  tell  Bill  Holmes 
he  come  here  by  this  rock  —  yoh  say  midnight  — 
that's  good  time  —  I  sure  be  here  that  time.  Yoh 
say  I  got  something  I  wan'  tell  him.  Yoh  do  that 
for  Kamon,  sweetheart  ?  " 

He  waited,  trying  to  hide  the  fact  that  he  was 
anxious. 

"  I  not  like  Bill  Holmes."  Annie-Many-Ponies 
spoke  with  an  air  of  finality.  "  Bill  Holmes  comes 
close,  I  feel  snakes.  Him  not  friend  to  Wagalexa 
Conka  —  say  nothing  —  always  go  around  still, 

63  » 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

like  fox  watching  for  rabbit.  You  not  friend  to 
Bill  Holmes?" 

"Me?  No  —  I  not  friend,  querida  mia.  I 
got  business.  I  sell  Bill  Holmes  one  silver  bridle, 
perhaps.  I  don'  know  —  mus'  talk  about  it.  Yoh 
tell  him  come  here  by  big  rock,  sweetheart  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  took  a  minute  for  delibera- 
tion —  which  is  the  Indian  way.  Kamon,  having 
learned  patience,  said  no  more  but  watched  her 
slant-eyed. 

"  I  tell,"  she  promised  at  last,  and  added,  "  I  go 
now."  Then  she  slipped  away.  And  Ramon, 
though  he  stood  for  several  minutes  by  the  rock 
smiling  queerly  and  staring  down  the  arroyo, 
caught  not  the  slightest  glimpse  of  her  after  she 
left  him.  He  knew  that  she  would  deliver  faith- 
fully his  message  to  Bill  Holmes,  she  had  given 
her  word.  That  was  one  great  advantage,  con- 
sidered Ramon,  in  dealing  with  those  direct,  un- 
compromising natures.  She  might  torment  him 
with  her  aloofness  and  her  reticence,  but  once  he 
had  won  her  to  a  full  confidence  and  submission 
he  need  not  trouble  himself  further  about  her  loy- 
alty. She  would  tell  Bill  Holmes  —  and,  what 

64 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

was  vastly  more  important,  she  would  do  it  se- 
cretly; lie  had  not  dared  to  speak  of  that,  but  he 
thought  he  might  safely  trust  to  her  natural  wari- 
ness. So  Ramon,  after  a  little,  stole  away  to  his 
own  camp  quite  satisfied. 

The  next  night,  when  he  stood  in  the  shadow  of 
the  rock  ledge  and  waited,  he  was  not  startled  by 
the  unexpected  presence  of  the  person  he  wanted 
to  see.  For  although  Bill  Holmes  came  as  cau- 
tiously as  he  knew  how,  and  avoided  the  wide, 
bright-lighted  stretches  of  arroyo  where  he  would 
have  been  plainly  visible,  Ramon  both  saw  and 
heard  him  before  he  reached  the  ledge.  What 
Ramon  did  not  see  or  hear  was  Annie-Many- 
Ponies,  who  did  not  quite  believe  that  those  two 
wished  merely  to  talk  about  a  silver  bridle,  and 
who  meant  to  listen  and  find  out  why  it  was  that 
they  could  not  talk  openly  before  all  the  boys. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  had  ways  of  her  own.  She 
did  not  tell  Ramon  that  she  doubted  his  word,  nor 
did  she  refuse  to  deliver  the  message.  She  waited 
calmly  until  Bill  Holmes  left  camp  stealthily  that 
night,  and  she  followed  him.  It  was  perfectly 
simple  and  sensible  and  the  right  thing  to  do; 

65 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

if  you  wanted  to  know  for  sure  whether  a  person 
lied  to  you,  you  had  but  to  watch  and  listen  and 
let  your  own  eyes  and  ears  prove  guilt  or  inno- 
cence. 

So  Annie-Many-Ponies  stood  by  the  rock  and 
listened  and  watched.  She  did  not  see  any  silver 
bridle.  She  heard  many  words,  but  the  two  were 
speaking  in  that  strange  Spanish  talk  which  she 
did  not  know  at  all,  save  "  Querida  mia,"  which 
Ramon  had  told  her  meant  sweetheart. 

The  two  talked,  low-voiced  and  earnest.  Bill 
was  telling  all  that  he  knew  of  Luck  Lindsay's 
plans  —  and  that  was  not  much. 

"  He  don't  talk,"  Bill  complained.  "  He  just 
tells  the  bunch  a  day  ahead  —  just  far  enough  to 
get  their  makeup  and  costumes  on,  generally. 
But  he  won't  stay  around  here  much  longer;  he's 
taken  enough  spring  roundup  stuff  now  for  half 
a  dozen  pictures.  He'll  be  moving  in  to  the  ranch 
again  pretty  quick.  And  I  know  this  picture  calls 
for  a  lot  of  town  business  that  he'll  have  to  take. 
I  saw  the  script  the  other  day."  This,  of  course, 
being  a  free  translation  of  the  meaningless  jumble 
of  strange  words  which  Annie  heard. 

66 


LOVE    WORDS    FOR    ANNIE 

"What  town  business  is  that?  Where  will  he 
work  ?  ' '  Eamon  was  plainly  impatient  of  so  much 
vagueness. 

' '  Well,  there 's  a  bank  robbery  —  I  paid  partic- 
ular attention,  Ramon,  so  I  know  for  certain. 
But  when  he'll  do  it,  or  what  bank  he'll  use,  I 
don't  know  any  more  than  you  do.  And  there's 
a  running  fight  down  the  street  and  through  the 
Mexican  quarter.  The  rest  is  just  street  stuff  — 
that  and  a  fiesta  that  I  think  he'll  probably  use 
the  old  plaza  for  location.  He'll  need  a  lot  of 
Mexicans  for  that  stuff.  He'll  want  you,  of 
course." 

"  That  bank  — who  will  do  that?"  Eamon 's 
fingers  trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely  roll  a 
cigarette.  "  Andy,  perhaps?  " 

' '  No  —  that 's  the  Mexican  bunch.    I  —  why,  I 

• 

guess  that  will  maybe  be  you,  Ramon.  I  wasn't 
paying  much  attention  to  the  parts  —  I  was  after 
locations,  and  I  only  had  about  two  minutes  at  the 
script.  But  he's  been  giving  you  some  good  bits 
right  along  where  he  needed  a  Mexican  type;  and 
those  scenes  in  the  rocks  the  other  day  was  bandit 
stuff  with  you  for  lead.  It'll  be  you  or  Miguel — ; 

67 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  Native  Son,  as  they  call  him  —  and  so  far  he's 
cast  for  another  part.  That's  the  worst  of  Luck. 
He  won't  talk  about  what  he's  going  to  do  till  he's 
all  ready  to  do  it." 

There  was  a  little  further  discussion.  Ramon 
muttered  a  few  sentences  —  rapid  instructions, 
Annie-Many-Ponies  believed  from  the  tone  he 
used. 

"All  right,  I'll  keep  you  posted,"  Bill  Holmes 
replied  in  English.  And  he  added  as  he  started 
off,  "  You  can  send  word  by  the  squaw." 

He  went  carefully  back  down  the  arroyo,  keep- 
ing as  much  as  possible  in  the  shade.  Behind  him 
stole  Annie-Many-Ponies,  noiseless  as  the  shadow 
of  a  cloud.  Bill  Holmes,  she  reflected  angrily,  had 
seen  the  day,  not  so  far  in  the  past,  when  he  was 
happy  if  the  "  squaw  "  but  smiled  upon  him.  It 
was  because  she  had  repelled  his  sly  lovemaking 
that  he  had  come  to  speak  of  her  slightingly  like 
that ;  she  knew  it.  She  could  have  named  the  very 
day  when  his  manner  toward  her  had  changed. 
Mingled  with  her  hate  and  dread  of  him  was  a  new 
contempt  and  a  new  little  anxiety  over  this  clan- 
destine intimacy  between  Ramon  and  him.  Why 

68 


LOVE  WORDS  FOR  ANNIE 

should  Bill  Holmes  keep  Ramon  posted?     Surely 
not  about  a  silver  bridle ! 

Shunka  Chistala  was  whining  in  her  little  tent 
when  she  came  into  the  camp.  She  heard  Bill 
Holmes  stumble  over  the  end  of  the  chuck-wagon 
tongue  and  mutter  the  customary  profanity  with 
which  the  average  man  meets  an  incident  of  that 
kind.  She  whispered  a  fierce  command  to  the  lit- 
tle black  dog  and  stood  very  still  for  a  minute, 
listening.  She  did  not  hear  anything  further, 
either  from  Bill  Holmes  or  the  dog,  and  finally 
reassured  by  the  silence,  she  crept  into  her  tent 
and  tied  the  flaps  together  on  the  inside,  and  lay 
down  in  her  blankets  with  the  little  black  dog  con- 
tentedly curled  at  her  feet  with  his  nose  between 
his  front  paws. 


69 


CHAPTER  V 

FOB    THE    GOOD    OF    THE    COMPANY 

ALL  through,  breakfast  Applehead  seemed  to 
have  something  weighty  on  his  mind.  He 
kept  pulling  at  his  streaked,  reddish-gray  mus- 
tache when  his  fingers  should  have  been  wholly 
occupied  with  his  food,  and  he  stared  abstractedly 
at  the  ground  after  he  had  finished  his  first  cup  of 
coffee  and  before  he  took  his  second.  Once  Bill 
Holmes  caught  him  glaring  with  an  intensity 
which  circumstances  in  no  wise  justified  —  and 
it  was  Bill  Holmes  who  first  shifted  his  gaze  in 
vague  uneasiness  when  he  tried  to  stare  Apple- 
head  down.  Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  glance  at 
him  at  all,  so  far  as  one  could  discover ;  yet  she  was 
the  first  to  sense  trouble  in  the  air,  and  withdrew 
herself  from  the  company  and  sat  apart,  wrapped 
closely  in  her  crimson  shawl  that  matched  well  the 
crimson  bows  on  her  two  shiny  braids. 

Luck,  keenly  alive  to  the  moods  of  his  people, 
70 


THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY 

looked  at  her  inquiringly.  "  Come  on  up  by  the 
fire,  Annie/'  he  commanded  gently.  "  What  you 
sitting  away  off  there  for  ?  Come  and  eat  —  I 
want  you  to  work  today." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  reply,  but  she  rose 
obediently  and  came  forward  in  the  silent  way  she 
had,  stepping  lightly,  straight  and  slim  and  darkly 
beautiful.  Applehead  glanced  at  her  sourly,  and 
her  lashes  drooped  to  hide  the  venom  in  her  eyes 
as  she  passed  him  to  stand  before  Luck. 

"  I  not  hungry,"  she  told  Luck  tranquilly,  yet 
with  a  hardness  in  her  voice  which  did  not  escape 
him,  who  knew  her  so  well.  "  I  go  put  on 
makeup." 

"  Wear  that  striped  blanket  you  used  last  Sat- 
urday when  we  worked  up  there  in  Tijeras  Canon. 
Same  young  squaw  makeup  you  wore  then,  Annie." 
He  eyed  her  sharply  as  she  turned  away  to  her 
own  tent,  and  he  observed  that  when  she  passed 
Applehead  she  took  two  steps  to  one  side,  widening 
the  distance  between  them.  He  watched  her  un- 
til she  lifted  her  tent  flap,  stooped  and  disappeared 
within.  Then  he  looked  at  Applehead. 

"  What's  wrong  between  you  two  ? "  he  asked 
71 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  old  man  quizzically.  "  Her  dog  been  licking 
your  cat  again,  or  what  ?  " 

"  You're  danged  right  he  ain't !  "  Applehead  tes- 
tified boastfully.  "  Compadre's  got  that  there 
dawg's  goat,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  He  don't  take 
nothin'  off  him  ner  her  neither." 

"  What  you  been  doing  to  her,  then  ?  "  Luck 
set  his  empty  plate  on  the  ground  beside  him  and 
began  feeling  for  the  makings  of  a  cigarette. 
"  Way  she  side-stepped  you,  I  know  there  must  be 
something" 

"  Well,  now,  I  ain't  done  a  danged  thing  to  that 
there  squaw !  She  ain't  got  any  call  to  go  around 
givin'  me  the  bad  eye."  He  looked  at  the  break- 
fasting company  and  then  again  at  Luck,  and 
gave  an  almost  imperceptible  backward  jerk  of 
his  head  as  he  got  awkwardly  to  his  feet  and 
strolled  away  toward  the  milling  horses  in  the 
remuda. 

So  when  Luck  had  lighted  his  fresh-rolled 
cigarette  he  followed  Applehead  unobtrusively. 
"  Well,  what's  on  your  mind  ?  "  he  wanted  to  know 
when  he  came  up  with  him. 

"  Well,  now,  I  don't  want  you  to  think  I'm  but- 
T2 


THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY 

tin'  in  on  your  affairs,  Luck,"  Applehead  began 
after  a  minute,  "  but  seein'  as  you  ast  me  what's 
wrong,  I'm  goin'  to  tell  yuh  straight  out.  We  got 
la  couple  of  danged  fine  women  in  this  here  bunch, 
and  I  shore  do  hate  to  see  things  goin'  on  around 
here  that'd  shame  'em  if  they  was  to  find  it  out. 
And  fur's  I  can  see  they  will  find  it  out,  sooner 
or  later.  Murder  ain't  the  only  kinda  wickedness 
that's  hard  to  cover  up.  I  know  you  feel  about 
as  I  do  on  some  subjects;  you  never  did  like  dirt 
around  you,  no  better 'n  — " 

"  Get  to  the  point,  man.  What's  wrong  ?  " 
So  Applehead,  turning  a  darker  shade  of  red 
than  was  his  usual  hue,  cleared  his  throat  and 
blurted  out  what  he  had  to  say.  He  had  heard 
Shunka  Chistala  whinnying  at  midnight  in  the 
tent  of  Annie-Many-Ponies,  and  had  gone  outside 
to  see  what  was  the  matter.  He  didn't  know,  he 
explained,  but  what  his  cat  Compadre  was  some- 
how involved.  He  had  stood  in  the  shadow  of  his 
tent  for  a  few  minutes,  and  had  seen  Bill  Holmes 
sneak  into  camp,  coming  from  up  the  arroyo  some- 
where. 

For  some  reason  he  waited  a  little  longer,  and 
73 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

he  had  seen  a  woman's  shadow  move  stealthily 
up  to  the  front  of  Annie's  tent,  and  had  seen  Annie 
slip  inside  and  had  heard  her  whisper  a  command 
of  some  sort  to  the  dog,  which  had  immediately 
hushed  its  whining.  He  hated  to  be  telling  tales 
on  anybody,  but  he  knew  how  keenly  Luck  felt 
his  responsibility  toward  the  Indian  girl,  and  he 
thought  he  ought  to  know.  This  night-prowling, 
he  declared,  had  shore  got  to  be  stopped,  or  he'd 
be  danged  if  he  didn't  run  'em  both  outa  camp 
himself. 

"  Bill  Holmes  might  have  been  out  of  camp," 
Luck  said  calmly,  "  but  you  sure  must  be  mistaken 
about  Annie.  She's  straight." 

"  You  think  she  is,"  Applehead  corrected  him. 
"  But  you  don't  know  a  danged  thing  about  it.  A 
girl  that's  behavin'  herself  don't  go  chasin'  all  over 
the  mesa  alone,  the  way  she's  been  doin'  all  spring. 
I  never  said  nothin'  'cause  it  wa'n't  none  of  my 
put-in.  But  that  Injun  had  a  heap  of  business  off 
away  from  the  ranch  whilst  you  was  in  Los 
Angeles,  Luck.  Sneaked  off  every  day,  just  about 
—  and  'd  be  gone  fer  hours  at  a  time.  You  kin 
ast  any  of  the  boys,  if  yuh  don't  want  to  take  my 

74 


THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY 

word.  Or  you  kin  ast  Mis'  Green;  she  kin  tell 
ye,  if  she's  a  mind  to." 

"  Did  Bill  Holmes  go  with  her  ?  "  Luck's  eyes 
were  growing  hard  and  gray. 

"  As  to  that  I  won't  say,  fer  I  don't  know  — 
and  I'm  tellin'  yuh  what  I  seen  myself.  Bill 
Holmes  done  a  lot  uh  walkin'  in  to  town,  fur  as 
that  goes ;  and  he  didn't  always  git  back  the  same 
day  neither.  He  never  went  off  with  Annie,  and 
he  never  came  back  with  her,  fur  as  I  ever  seen. 
But,"  he  added  grimly,  "  they  didn't  come  back 
together  las'  night,  neither.  They  come  about 
three  or  four  minutes  apart." 

Luck  thought  a  minute,  scowling  off  across  the 
arroyo.  Not  even  to  Applehead,  bound  to  him  by 
closer  ties  than  anyone  there,  did  he  ever  reveal 
his  thoughts  completely. 

"All  right  — I'll  attend  to  them,"  he  said 
finally.  "  Don't  say  anything  to  the  bunch ;  these 
things  aren't  helped  by  talk.  Get  into  your  old 
cowman  costume  and  use  that  big  gray  you  rode 
in  that  drive  we  made  the  other  day.  I'm  going  to 
pick  up  the  action  where  we  left  off  when  it  turned 
cloudy.  Tomorrow  or  next  day  I  want  to  move 

75 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  outfit  back  to  the  ranch.  There's  quite  a  lot 
of  town  stuff  I  want  to  get  for  this  picture." 

Applehead  looked  at  him  uncertainly,  tempted 
to  impress  further  upon  him  the  importance  of 
safeguarding  the  morals  of  his  company.  But  he 
knew  Luck  pretty  well  —  having  lived  with  him 
for  months  at  a  time  when  Luck  was  younger  and 
even  more  peppery  than  now.  So  he  wisely  con- 
densed his  reply  to  a  nod,  and  went  back  to  the 
breakfast  fire  polishing  his  bald  head  with  the  flat 
of  his  palm.  He  met  Annie-Many-Ponies  coming 
to  ask  Luck  which  of  the  two  pairs  of  beaded  moc- 
casins she  carried  in  her  hands  he  would  like  to 
have  her  wear.  She  did  not  look  at  Applehead  at 
all  as  she  passed,  but  he  nevertheless  became  keenly 
aware  of  her  animosity  and  turned  half  around  to 
glare  after  her  resentfully.  You'd  think,  he  told 
himself  aggrievedly,  that  he  was  the  one  that  had 
been  acting  up!  Let  her  go  to  Luck  —  she'd 
danged  soon  be  made  to  know  her  place  in  camp. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  went  confidently  on  her 
way,  carrying  the  two  pairs  of  beaded  moccasins 
in  her  hands.  Her  face  was  more  inscrutable  than 
ever.  She  was  pondering  deeply  the  problem  of 

76 


THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY 

Bill  Holmes'  business  with  Ramon,  and  she  was 
half  tempted  to  tell  Wagalexa  Conka  of  that  secret 
intimacy  which  must  carry  on  its  converse  under 
cover  of  night.  She  did  not  trust  Bill  Holmes. 
Why  must  he  keep  Bamon  posted?  She  glanced 
ahead  to  where  Luck  stood  thinking  deeply  about 
something,  and  her  eyes  softened  in  a  shy  sym- 
pathy with  his  trouble.  Wagalexa  Conka  worked 
hard  and  thought  much  and  worried  more  than 
was  good  for  him.  Bill  Holmes,  she  decided 
fiercely,  should  not  add  to  those  worries.  She 
would  warn  Eamon  when  next  she  talked  with  him. 
She  would  tell  Eamon  that  he  must  not  be  friends 
with  Bill  Holmes;  in  the  meantime,  she  would 
watch. 

Ten  feet  from  Luck  she  stopped  short,  sensing 
trouble  in  the  hardness  that  was  in  his  eyes.  She 
stood  there  and  waited  in  meek  subjection. 

"  Annie,  come  here !  "  Luck's  voice  was  no  less 
stern  because  it  was  lowered  so  that  a  couple  of 
the  boys  fussing  with  the  horses  inside  the  rope 
corral  could  not  overhear  what  he  had  to  say. 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  pulling  one  of  the  shiny 
black  braids  into  the  correct  position  over  her 

77 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

shoulder  and  breast,  stepped  soft-footedly  up  te 
him  and  stopped.  She  did  not  ask  him  what  he 
wanted.  She  waited  until  it  was  his  pleasure  to 
speak. 

"Annie,  I  want  you  to  keep  away  from  Bill 
Holmes."  Luck  was  not  one  to  mince  his  words 
when  he  had  occasion  to  speak  of  disagreeable 
things.  "  It  isn't  right  for  you  to  let  him  make 
love  to  you  on  the  sly.  You  know  that.  You 
know  you  must  not  leave  camp  with  him  after 
dark.  You  make  me  ashamed  of  you  when  you 
do  those  things.  You  keep  away  from  Bill  Holmes 
and  stay  in  camp  nights.  If  you're  a  bad  girl, 
I'll  have  to  send  you  back  to  the  reservation  — 
and  I'll  have  to  tell  the  agent  and  Chief  Big  Tur- 
key why  I  send  you  back.  I  can't  have  anybody 
in  my  company  who  doesn't  act  right.  Now  re- 
member—  don't  make  me  speak  to  you  again 
about  it." 

Annie-Majy-Ponies  stood  there,  and  the  veiled 
look  was  in  tier  eyes.  Her  face  was  a  smooth, 
brown  mask  —  beautiful  to  look  upon  but  as  ex- 
pressionless as  the  dead.  She  did  not  protest  her 
innocence,  she  did  not  explain  that  she  hated  and 

78 


distrusted  Bill  Holmes  and  that  she  had,  months- 
ago,  repelled  his  surreptitious  advances.  Luck 
would  have  believed,  for  he  had  known  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  since  she  was  a  barefooted  papoose, 
and  he  had  ne^er  known  her  to  tell  him  an  un- 
truth. 

"  You  go  now  and  get  ready  for  work.  Wear 
the  moccasins  with  the  birds  on  the  toes."  He 
pointed  to  them  and  turned  away. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  also  turned  and  went  her 
way  and  said  nothing.  What,  indeed,  could  she 
say?  She  did  not  doubt  that  Luck  had  seen  her 
the  night  before,  and  had  seen  also  Bill  Holmes 
when  he  left  camp  or  returned  —  perhaps  both. 
She  could  not  tell  him  that  Bill  Holmes  had  gone 
out  to  meet  Ramon,  for  that,  she  felt  instinctively, 
was  a  secret  which  Ramon  trusted  her  not  to  be- 
tray. She  could  not  tell  W&galexa  Conka,  either, 
that  she  met  Ramon  often  when  the  camp  was 
asleep.  He  would  think  that  as  bad  as  meeting 
Bill  Holmes.  She  knew  that  he  did  not  like  Ra- 
mon, but  merely  used  him  and  his  men  and  horses 
and  cattle  for  a  price,  to  better  his  pictures.  Save 
in  a  purely  business  way  she  had  never  seen  him 

79 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

talking  with  Eamon.  Never  as  lie  talked  with  the 
boys  of  the  Flying  U  —  his  Happy  Family,  he 
called  them. 

She  said  nothing.  She  dressed  for  the  part  she 
was  to  play.  She  twined  flowers  in  her  hair  and 
smoothed  out  the  red  bows  and  laid  them  carefully 
away  —  since  Wagalexa  Conka  did  not  wish  her 
to  wear  ribbon  bows  in  this  picture.  She  mur- 
mured caresses  to  Shunka  Chistala,  the  little  black 
dog  that  was  always  at  her  heels.  She  rode  with 
the  company  to  the  rocky  gorge  which  was  "  loca- 
tion "  for  today.  When  Wagalexa  Conka  called  to 
her  she  went  and  climbed  upon  a  high  rock  and 
stood  just  where  he  told  her  to  stand,  and  looked 
just  as  he  told  her  to  look,  and  stole  away  through 
the  rocks  and  out  of  the  scene  exactly  as  he  wished 
her  to  do. 

But  when  Wagalexa  Conka  —  sorry  for  the 
harshness  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  show  that 
morning  —  smiled  and  told  her  she  had  done  fine, 
and  that  he  was  pleased  with  her,  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  did  not  smile  back  with  that  slow,  sweet, 
heart-twisting  smile  which  was  at  once  her  sharp- 
est weapon  and  her  most  endearing  trait. 

80 


THE  GOOD  OF  THE  COMPANY 

Bill  Holmes,  who  had  also  had  his  sharp  word 
of  warning,  and  had  been  told  very  plainly  to  cut 
out  this  flirting  with  Annie  if  he  wanted  to  remain 
on  Luck's  payroll,  eyed  her  strangely.  Once  he 
tried  to  have  a  secret  word  with  her,  but  she  moved 
away  and  would  not  look  at  him.  For  Annie- 
Many-Ponies,  hurt  and  bitter  as  she  felt  toward 
her  beloved  Wagalexa  Conka,  hated  Bill  Holmes 
fourfold  for  being  the  cause  of  her  humiliation. 
That  she  did  not  also  hate  Ramon  Chavez  as  being 
equally  guilty  with  Bill  Holmes,  went  far  toward 
proving  how  strong  a  hold  he  had  gained  upon 
her  heart. 


81 


CHAPTEK  VI 

"l    GO    WHERE    WAGALEXA    CONKA    SAY" 

THAT  afternoon  Ramon  joined  them,  suave  as 
ever  and  seeming  very  much  at  peace  with 
the  world  and  his  fellow-beings.  He  watched  the 
new  leading  woman  make  a  perilous  ride  down  a 
steep,  rocky,  point  and  dash  up  to  camera  and  on 
past  it  where  she  set  her  horse  back  upon  its 
haunches  with  a  fine  disregard  for  her  bones  and 
a  still  finer  instinct  for  putting  just  the  right  dash 
of  the  spectacular  into  her  work  without  overdoing 
it. 

"  That  senora,  she's  all  right,  you  bet !  "  he 
praised  the  feat  to  those  who  stood  near  him; 
"  me,  I  not  be  stuck  on  ron  my  caballo  down  that 
place.  You  bet  she's  fine  rider.  My  sombrero, 
he's  come  off  to  that  lady !  " 

Jean,  hearing,  glanced  at  him  with  that  little 
quirk  of  the  lips  which  was  the  beginning  of  a 

82 


WHERE  WAGALEXA  CONKA  SAY 

smile,  and  rode  off  to  join  her  father  and  Lite 
Avery.  "  He  made  that  sound  terribly  sincere, 
didn't  he  ?  "  she  commented.  "  It  takes  a  Mexi- 
I  can  to  lift  flattery  up  among  the  fine  arts."  Then 
she  thought  no  more  about  it. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  was  sitting  apart,  on  a  rock 
where  her  gay  blanket  made  a  picturesque  splotch 
of  color  against  the  gray  barrenness  of  the  hill  be- 
hind her.  She,  too,  heard  what  Eamon  said,  and 
she,  too,  thought  that  he  had  made  the  praise  sound 
terribly  sincere.  He  had  not  spoken  to  her  at  all 
after  the  first  careless  nod  of  recognition  when  he 
rode  up.  And  although  her  reason  had  approved 
of  his  caution,  her  sore  heart  ached  for  a  little 
kindness  from  him.  She  turned  her  eyes  toward 
him  now  with  a  certain  wistfulness;  but  though 
Ramon  chanced  to  be  looking  toward  her  she  got 
no  answering  light  in  his  eyes,  no  careful  little 
signal  that  his  heart  was  yearning  for  her.  He 
seemed  remote,  as  indifferent  to  her  as  were  any 
of  the  others  dulled  by  accustomedness  to  her  con- 
stant presence  among  them.  A  premonitory  chill, 
as  from  some  great  sorrow  yet  before  her  in  the 
future,  shook  the  heart  of  Annie-Many-Ponies. 

83 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Me,  I  fine  out  how  moch  more  yoh  want  me 
campa  here  for  pictures,"  Ramon  was  saying  now 
to  Luck  who  was  standing  by  Pete  Lowry,  scrib- 
bling something  on  his  script.  "  My  brother  To- 
mas,  he  liking  for  us  at  ranch  now,  s'pose  yoh 
finish  poco  tiempo." 

Luck  wrote  another  line  before  he  gave  any  sign 
that  he  heard.  Annie-Many-Ponies,  watching 
from  under  her  drooping  lids,  saw  that  Bill  Holmes 
had  edged  closer  to  Ramon,  while  he  made  pre- 
tense of  being  much  occupied  with  his  own  af- 
fairs. 

"  I  don't  need  your  camp  at  all  after  today." 
Luck  shoved  the  script  into  his  coat  pocket  and 
looked  at  his  watch. 

"  This  afternoon  when  the  sun  is  just  right  I 
want  to  get  one  or  two  cut-back  scenes  and  a  dis- 
solve out.  After  that  you  can  break  camp  any 
time.  But  I  want  you,  Ramon  —  you  and  Es- 
tancio  Lopez  and  Luis  Rojas.  I'll  need  you  for 
two  or  three  days  in  town  —  want  you  to  play  the 
heavy  in  a  bank-robbery  and  street  fight.  The 
makeup  is  the  same  as  when  you  worked  up  there 
in  the  rocks  the  other  day.  You  three  fellows 

84 


come  over  and  go  in  to  the  ranch  tomorrow  if  you 
like.  Then  I'll  have  you  when  I  want  you. 
You'll  get  five  dollars  a  day  while  you  work." 
Having  made  himself  sufficiently  clear,  he  turned 
away  to  set  and  rehearse  the  next  scene,  and  did 
not  see  the  careful  glance  which  passed  between 
Eamon  and  Bill  Holmes. 

"  Annie,"  Luck  said  abruptly,  swinging  toward 
her,  "  can  you  come  down  off  that  point  where 
Jean  Douglas  came?  You'll  have  to  ride  horse- 
back, remember,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  do  it 
unless  you're  sure  of  yourself.  How  about 
it?" 

For  the  first  time  since  breakfast  her  somber 
eyes  lightened  with  a  gleam  of  interest.  She  did 
not  look  at  Eamon  —  Ramon  who  had  told  her 
many  times  how  much  he  loved  her,  and  yet  could 
praise  Jean  Douglas  for  her  riding.  Eamon  had 
declared  that  he  would  not  care  to  come  riding 
down  that  point  as  Jean  had  come ;  very  well,  then 
she  would  show  Eamon  something. 

"It  isn't  necessary,  exactly,"  Luck  explained 
further.  "  I  can  show  you  at  the  top,  looking  down 
at  the  way  Jean  came;  and  then  I  can  pick  you 

85 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

up  on  an  easier  trail.  But  if  you  want  to  do  it, 
it  will  save  some  cut-backs  and  put  another  little 
punch  in  here.  Either  way  it's  up  to  you." 

The  voice  of  Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  rise  to 
a  higher  key  when  she  spoke,  but  it  had  in  it  a 
clear  incisiveness  that  carried  her  answer  to  Ra- 
mon and  made  him  understand  that  she  was  speak- 
ing for  his  ears. 

"  I  come  down  with  big  punch,"  she  said. 

"  Where  Jean  came  ?  You're  riding  bareback, 
remember." 

"  No  matter.  I  come  down  jus'  same."  And 
she  added  with  a  haughty  tilt  of  her  chin,  "  That's 
easy  place  for  me." 

Luck  eyed  her  steadfastly,  a  smile  of  approval 
on  his  face.  "  All  right.  I  know  you've  got 
plenty  of  nerve,  Annie.  You  mount  and  ride  up 
that  draw  till  you  get  to  the  ridge.  Come  up  to 
where  you  can  see  camp  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  — 
sabe  ?  —  and  then  wait  till  I  whistle.  One  whis- 
tle, get  ready  to  come  down.  Two  whistles,  you 
come.  Ride  past  camera,  just  the  way  Jean  did. 
You  know  you're  following  the  white  girl  and  try- 
ing to  catch  up  with  her.  You're  a  friend  and  you 

86 


have  a  message  for  her,  but  she's  scared  and  is 
running  away  —  sabe  ?  You  want  to  come  down 
slow  first  and  pick  jour  trail  ?  " 

"  No."  Annie-Many-Ponies  started  toward  the 
pinto  pony  which  was  her  mount  in  this  picture. 
"  I  come  down  hill.  I  make  big  punch  for  you. 
Pete  turn  camera." 

"  You've  got  more  nerve  than  I  have,  Annie," 
Jean  told  her  good-naturedly  as  she  went  by.  "  Pd 
hate  to  run  a  horse  down  there  bareback." 

"  I  go  where  Wagalexa  Conka  say."  Prom  the 
corner  of  her  eye  she  saw  the  quick  frown  of  jeal- 
ousy upon  the  face  of  Eamon,  and  her  pulse  gave 
an  extra  beat  of  triumph. 

With  an  easy  spring  she  mounted  the  pinto  pony, 
took  the  reins  of  her  squaw  bridle  that  was  her 
only  riding  gear,  folded  her  gay  blanket  snugly 
around  her  uncorseted  body  and  touched  the  pinto 
with  her  moccasined  heels.  She  was  ready  — 
ready  to  the  least  little  tensed  nerve  that  tingled 
with  eagerness  under  the  calm  surface. 

She  rode  slowly  past  Luck,  got  her  few  final 
instructions  and  a  warning  to  be  careful  and  to 
take  no  chances  of  an  accident  —  which  brought 

87 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

that  inscrutable  smile  to  her  face;  for  Wagalexa 
Conka  knew,  and  she  knew  also,  that  in  the  mere 
act  of  riding  down  that  slope  faster  than  a  walk 
she  was  taking  a  chance  of  an  accident.  It  was 
that  risk  that  lightened  her  heart  which  had  been 
so  heavy  all  day.  The  greater  the  risk,  the  more 
eager  was  she  to  take  it.  She  would  show  Ramon 
that  she,  too,  could  ride. 

"  Oh,  do  be  careful,  Annie !  "  Jean  called  anx- 
iously when  she  was  riding  into  the  mouth  of  the 
draw.  "  Turn  to  the  right,  when  you  come  to  that 
big  flat  rock,  and  don't  come  down  where  I  did. 
It's  too  steep.  Really,"  she  drawled  to  Rosemary 
and  Lite,  "  my  heart  was  in  my  mouth  when  I 
came  straight  down  by  that  rock.  It's  a  lot 
steeper  than  it  looks  from  here." 

"  She  won't  go  round  it,"  Rosemary  predicted 
pessimistically.  "  She's  in  one  of  her  contrary 
moods  today.  She'll  come  down  the  worst  way  she 
can  find  just  to  scare  the  life  out  of  us." 

Up  the  steep  draw  that  led  to  the  top,  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  rode  exultantly.  She  would  show 
Ramon  that  she  could  ride  wherever  the  white  girl 
dared  ride.  She  would  shame  Wagalexa  Conka, 

88 


WHERE  WAGALEXA  CONKA  SAY 

too,  for  his  injustice  to  her.  She  would  put  the 
big  punch  in  that  scene  or  —  she  would  ride  no 
more,  unless  it  were  upon  a  white  cloud,  drifting 
across  the  moon  at  night  and  looking  down  at  this 
world  and  upon  Ramon.. 

At  the  top  of  the  ridge  she  rode  out  to  the  edge 
and  made  the  peace-sign  to  Luck  as  a  signal  that 
she  was  ready  to  do  his  bidding.  Incidentally, 
while  she  held  her  hand  high  over  her  head,  her 
eyes  swept  keenly  the  bowlder-strewn  bluff  be- 
neath her.  A  little  to  one  side  was  a  narrow  back- 
bone of  smoother  soil  than  the  rest,  and  here  were 
printed  deep  the  marks  of  Jean's  horse.  Even 
there  it  was  steep,  and  there  was  a  bank,  down 
there  by  the  big  flat  rock  which  Jean  had  men- 
tioned. Annie-Many-Ponies  looked  daringly  to 
the  left,  where  one  would  say  the  bluff  was  impass- 
able. There  she  would  come  down,  and  no  other 
place.  She  would  show  Ramon  what  she  could  do 
—  he  who  had  praised  boldly  another  when  she 
was  by ! 

"  All  right,  Annie !  "  Luck  called  to  her  through 
his  megaphone.  "  Go  back  now  and  wait  for  whis- 
tle. Ride  along  the  edge  when  you  come,  from 

89 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

bushes  to  where  you  stand.  I  want  silhouette,  you 
coming.  You  sabe  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  raised  her  hand  even  with 
her  breast,  and  swept  it  out  and  upward  in  the 
Indian  sign-talk  which  meant  "yes."  Luck's 
eyes  flashed  appreciation  of  the  gesture;  he  loved 
the  sign-talk  of  the  old  plains  tribes. 

"  Be  careful,  Annie,"  he  cried  impulsively. 
"  I  don't  want  you  to  be  hurt."  He  dropped  the 
megaphone  as  she  swung  her  horse  back  from  the 
edge  and  disappeared.  "  I'd  cut  the  whole  scene 
out  if  I  didn't  know  what  a  rider  she  is,"  he  added 
to  the  others,  more  uneasy  than  he  cared  to  own. 
"  But  it  would  hurt  her  a  heap  more  if  I  wouldn't 
let  her  ride  where  Jean  rode.  She's  proud;  aw- 
fully proud  and  sensitive." 

"  I'm  glad  you're  letting  her  do  it,"  Jean  said 
sympathetically.  "  She'd  hate  me  if  you  hadn't. 
But  I'm  going  to  watch  her  with  my  eyes  shut, 
just  the  same.  It's  an  awfully  mean  place  in 
spots." 

"  She'll  make  it,  all  right,"  Luck  declared.  But 
his  tone  was  not  so  confident  as  his  words,  and  he 
was  manifestly  reluctant  to  place  the  whistle  to 

90 


WHERE  WAGALEXA  CONKA  SAY 

his  lips.  He  fussed  with  his  script,  and  he 
squinted  into  the  viewfinder,  and  he  made  certain 
for  the  second  time  just  where  the  side-lines  came, 
and  thrust  half  an  inch  deeper  in  the  sandy  soil 
the  slender  stakes  which  would  tell  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  where  she  must  guide  the  pinto  when  she 
came  tearing  down  to  foreground.  But  he  could 
delay  the  signal  only  so  long,  unless  he  cut  out  the 
scene  altogether. 

"  Get  back,  over  on  that  side,  Bill,"  he  com- 
manded harshly.  "  Leave  her  plenty  of  room  to 
pass  that  side  of  the  camera.  All  ready,  Pete  ?  " 
Then,  as  if  he  wanted  to  have  it  over  with  as  soon 
as  possible,  he  whistled  once,  waited  while  he  might 
have  counted  twenty,  perhaps,  and  sent  shrilling 
through  the  sunshine  the  signal  that  would  bring 
her. 

They  watched,  holding  their  breaths  in  fearful 
expectancy.  Then  they  saw  her  flash  into  view 
and  come  galloping  down  along  the  edge  of  the 
ridge  where  the  hill  fell  away  so  steeply  that  it 
might  be  called  a  cliff.  Indian  fashion,  she  was 
whipping  the  pinto  down  both  sides  with  the  end 
of  her  reins.  Her  slim  legs  hung  straight,  her 

91 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

moccasined  toes  pointing  downward.  One  corner 
of  her  red-and-green  striped  blanket  flapped  out 
behind  her.  Haste  —  the  haste  of  the  pursuer  — 
showed  in  every  movement,  every  line  of  her  fig- 
ure. 

She  came  to  the  descent,  and  the  pinto,  having 
no  desire  for  applause  but  a  very  great  hanker- 
ing for  whole  bones  in  his  body,  planted  his  fore- 
feet and  slid  to  a  stop  upon  the  brink.  His  snort 
came  clearly  down  to  those  below  who  watched. 

"  He  won't  tackle  it,"  Pete  Lowry  predicted 
philosophically  while  he  turned  the  camera  crank 
steadily  round  and  round  and  held  himself  ready 
to  "  panoram  "  the  scene  if  the  pinto  bolted. 

But  the  pinto,  having  Annie-Many-Ponies  to 
reckon  with,  did  not  bolt.  The  braided  rein-end 
of  her  squaw  bridle  lashed  him  stingingly;  the 
moccasined  heels  dug  without  mercy  into  the  ten- 
der part  of  his  flanks.  He  came  lunging  down 
over  the  first  rim  of  the  bluff ;  then  since  he  must, 
he  gathered  himself  for  the  ordeal  and  came  leap- 
ing down  and  down  and  down,  gaining  momentum 
with  every  jump.  He  could  not  have  stopped 
then  if  he  had  tried  —  and  Annie-Many-Ponies, 
92 


WHERE  WAGALEXA  CONKA  SAY 

still  the  incarnation  of  eager  pursuit,  would  not 
let  him  try. 

At  the  big  flat  rock  of  which  Jean  had  warned 
her,  the  pinto  would  have  swerved.  But  she 
yanked  him  into  the  straighter  descent,  down  over 
the  bank.  He  leaped,  and  he  fell  and  slid  twice 
his  own  length,  his  nose  rooting  the  soil.  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  lurched,  came  hard  against  a  boul- 
der and  somehow  flung  herself  into  place  again 
on  the  horse.  She  lifted  his  head  and  called  to 
him  in  short,  harsh,  Indian  words.  The  pinto 
scrambled  to  his  knees,  got  to  his  feet  and  felt 
again  the  sting  of  the  rein-end  in  his  flanks.  Like 
a  rabbit  he  came  bounding  down,  down  where  the 
way  was  steepest  and  most  treacherous.  And  at 
every  jump  the  rein-end  fell,  first  on  one  side  and 
then  along  the  other,  as  a  skilled  canoeman  shifts 
the  paddle  to  force  his  slight  craft  forward  in  a 
treacherous  current. 

Down  the  last  slope  he  came  thundering.  On 
his  back  Annie-Many-Ponies  lashed  him  steadily, 
straining  her  eyes  in  the  direction  which  Jean  had 
taken  past  the  camera.  She  knew  that  they  were 
watching  her  —  she  knew  also  that  the  camera 

93 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

crank  in  Pete  Lowry's  hands  was  turning,  turn- 
ing, recording  every  move  of  hers,  every  little 
changing  expression.  She  swept  down  upon  them 
so  close  that  Pete  grabbed  the  tripod  with  one  hand, 
ready  to  lift  it  and  dodge  away  from  the  coming 
collision.  Still  leaning,  still  lashing  and  strain- 
ing every  nerve  in  pursuit,  she  dashed  past,  piv- 
oted the  pinto  upon  his  hind  feet,  darted  back 
toward  the  staring  group  and  jumped  off  while  he 
was  yet  running. 

Now  that  she  had  done  it ;  now  that  she  had 
proven  that  she  also  had  nerve  and  much  skill  in 
riding,  black  loneliness  settled  upon  her  again. 
She  came  slowly  back,  and  as  she  came  she  heard 
them  praise  the  ride  she  had  made.  She  heard 
them  saying  how  frightened  they  had  been  when 
the  pinto  fell,  and  she  heard  Wagalexa  Conka  call 
to  her  that  she  had  made  a  strong  scene  for  him. 
She  did  not  answer.  She  sat  down  upon  a  rock, 
a  little  apart  f rom\  them,  and  looking  as  remote 
as  the  Sandias  Mountains,  miles  away  to  the  north, 
folded  her  blanket  around  her  and  spoke  no  word 
to  anyone. 

Soon  Kamon  mounted  his  horse  to  return  to  his 
94 


WHERE  WAGALEXA  CONKA  SAY 

camp.  He  came  riding  down  to  her  —  for  hia 
trail  lay  that  way  —  and  as  he  rode  he  called  to 
the  others  a  good  natured  "  Hasta  luego !  " — 
which  is  the  Mexican  equivalent  of  "  See  you 
later."  He  did  not  seem  to  notice  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  at  all  as  he  rode  past  her.  He  was  gazing 
off  down  the  arroyo  and  riding  with  all  his  weight 
on  one  stirrup  and  the  other  foot  swinging  free, 
as  is  the  nonchalant  way  of  accustomed  riders  who 
would  ease  their  muscles  now  and  then.  But  as 
he  passed  the  rock  where  she  was  sitting  he  mur- 
mured, "  Tonight  by  the  rock  I  wait  for  you, 
querida  mia."  Though  she  gave  no  sign  that  she 
had  heard,  the  heart  of  Aimie-Many-Ponies  gave  a 
throb  of  gladness  that  was  almost  pain. 


.  95 


CHAPTER  VII 

ADVENTURE   'COMES    SMILING 

LUCK,  in  the  course  of  his  enthusiastic  pic- 
ture making,  reached  the  point  where  he 
must  find  a  bank  that  was  willing  to  be  robbed  — 
in  broad  daylight  and  for  screen  purposes  only. 
If  you  know  anything  at  all  about  our  financial 
storehouses,  you  know  that  they  are  sensitive  about 
being  robbed,  or  even  having  it  appear  that  they 
are  being  subjected  to  so  humiliating  a  procedure. 
What  Luck  needed  was  a  bank  that  was  not  only 
willing,  but  one  that  faced  the  sun  as  well.  He 
was  lucky,  as  usual.  The  Bernalillo  County  Bank 
stands  on  a  corner  facing  east  and  south.  It  is  an 
unpretentious  little  bank  of  the  older  style  of  ar- 
1  chitecture,  and  might  well  be  located  in  the  centre 
of  any  small  range  town  and  hold  the  shipping 
receipts  of  a  cattleman  who  was  growing  rich  as 
he  grew  old. 

Luck  stopped  across  the  street  and  looked  the 
96 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

bank  over,  and  saw  how  the  sun  would  shine  in 
at  the  door  and  through  the  wide  windows  during 
the  greater  part  of  the  afternoon,  and  hoped  that 
the  cashier  was  a  human  being  and  would  not  ob- 
ject to  a  fake  robbery.  Not  liking  suspense,  he 
stepped  off  the  pavement  and  dodged  a  jitney,  and 
hurried  over  to  interview  the  cashier. 

You  never  know  what  secret  ambitions  hide  be- 
hind the  impassive  courtesy  of  the  average  busi- 
ness man.  This  cashier,  for  instance,  wore  a 
green  eyeshade  whenever  his  hat  was  not  on  his 
head.  His  hair  was  thin  and  his  complexion 
pasty  and  his  shoulders  were  too  stooped  for  a 
man  of  his  age.  You  never  would  have  suspected, 
just  to  look  at  him  through  the  fancy  grating  of 
his  window,  how  he  thirsted  for  that  kind  of  ad- 
venture which  fiction  writers  call  red-blooded. 
He  had  never  had  an  adventure  in  his  life ;  but  at 
night,  after  he  had  gone  to  bed  and  adjusted  the 
electric  light  at  his  head,  and  his  green  eyeshade, 
and  had  put  two  pillows  under  the  back  of  his  neck, 
he  read  —  you  will  scarcely  believe  it,  but  it  is 
true  —  he  read  about  the  James  boys  and  Kit 
Carson  and  Pawnee  Bill,  and  he  could  tell  you  — 

97 


only  he  wouldn't  mention  it,  of  course  —  just  how 
many  Texans  were  killed  in  the  Alamo.  He  loved 
gun  catalogues,  and  he  frequently  went  out  of  his 
way  to  pass  a  store  that  displayed  real,  business- 
looking  stock-saddles  and  quirts  and  spurs  and 
things.  He  longed  to  be  down  in  Mexico  in  the 
thick  of  the  scrap  there,  and  he  knew  every  prom- 
inent Federal  leader  and  every  revolutionist  that 
got  into  the  papers;  knew  them  by  spelling  at 
least,  even  if  he  couldn't  pronounce  the  names  cor- 
rectly. 

He  had  come  to  Albuquerque  for  his  lungs'  sake 
a  few  years  ago,  and  he  still  thrilled  at  the  sight 
of  bright-shawled  Pueblo  Indians  padding  along 
the  pavements  in  their  moccasins  and  queer  leg- 
gings that  looked  like  joints  of  whitewashed  stove- 
pipe ;  while  to  ride  in  an  automobile  out  to  Isleta, 
which  is  a  terribly  realistic  Indian  village  of 
adobe  huts,  made  the  blood  beat  in  his  temples 
and  his  fingers  tremble  upon  his  knees.  Even 
Martinez  Town  with  its  squatty  houses  and 
narrow  streets  held  for  him  a  peculiar  fascina- 
tion. 

You  can  imagine,  maybe,  how  his  weak  eyes 
98 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

snapped  with  excitement  under  that  misleading 
green  shade  when  Luck  Lindsay  walked  in  and 
smiled  at  him  through  the  wicket,  and  explained 
who  he  was  and  what  was  the  favor  he  had  come 
to  ask  of  the  bank.  You  can,  perhaps,  imagine 
how  he  stood  and  made  little  marks  on  a  blotter 
with  his  pencil  while  Luck  explained  just  what 
he  would  want ;  and  how  he  clung  to  the  noncom- 
mittal manner  which  is  a  cashier's  professional 
shield,  while  Luck  smiled  his  smile  to  cover  his 
own  feeling  of  doubt  and  stated  that  he  merely 
wanted  two  Mexicans  to  enter,  presumably  over- 
power the  cashier,  and  depart  with  a  bag  or  two 
of  gold. 

The  cashier  made  a  few  more  pencil  marks  and 
said  that  it  might  be  arranged,  if  Luck  could  find 
it  convenient  to  make  the  picture  just  after  the 
bank's  closing  time.  Obviously  the  cashier  could 
not  permit  the  bank's  patrons  to  be  disturbed  in 
any  way  —  but  what  he  really  wanted  was  to  have 
the  thrill  of  the  adventure  all  to  himself. 

With  the  two  of  them  anxious  to  have  the  pic- 
tured robbery  take  place,  of  course  they  arranged 
it  after  a  little  polite  sparring  on  the  part  of  the 

99 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

cashier,  whose  craving  for  adventure  was  carefully 
guarded  as  a  guilty  secret. 

At  three  o'clock  the  next  day,  then  —  although 
Luck  would  have  greatly  preferred  an  earlier  hour 
—  the  cashier  had  the  bank  cleared  of  patrons  and 
superfluous  clerks,  and  was  watching,  with  his 
nerves  all  atingle  and  the  sun  shining  in  upon  him 
through  a  side  window,  while  Pete  Lowry  and  Bill 
Holmes  fussed  outside  with  the  camera,  getting 
ready  for  the  arrival  of  those  realistic  bandits, 
Ramon  Chavez  and  Luis  Eojas.  On  the  street 
corner  opposite,  the  Happy  Family  foregathered 
clannishly,  waiting  until  they  were  called  into  the 
street-fight  scene  which  Luck  meant  to  make  later. 

The  cashier's  cheeks  were  quite  pink  with  ex- 
citement when  finally  Eamon  and  the  Rojas  vil- 
lain walked  past  the  window  and  looked  in  at  him 
before  going  on  to  the  door.  He  was  disappointed 
because  they  were  not  masked,  and  because  they 
did  not  wear  bright  sashes  with  fringe  and  striped 
scrapes  draped  across  their  shoulders,  and  the  hilts 
of  wicked  knives  showing  somewhere.  They  did 
not  look  like  bandits  at  all  —  thanks  to  Luck's  sure 
knowledge  and  fine  sense  of  realism.  Still,  they 
100 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

answered  the  purpose,  and  when  they  opened  the 
door  and  came  in  the  cashier  got  quite  a  start  from 
the  greedy  look  in  their  eyes  when  they  saw  the 
gold  he  had  stacked  in  profusion  on  the  counter 
before  him. 

They  made  the  scene  twice  —  the  walking  past 
the  window  and  coming  in  at  the  door;  and  the 
second  time  Luck  swore  at  them  because  they 
stopped  too  abruptly  at  the  window  and  lingered 
too  long  there,  looking  in  at  the  cashier  and  his 
gold,  and  exchanging  meaning  glances  before  they 
went  to  the  door. 

Later,  there  was  an  interior  scene  with  reflectors 
almost  blinding  the  cashier  while  he  struggled  self- 
consciously and  ineffectually  with  Ramon  Chavez. 
The  gold  that  Ramon  scraped  from  the  cashier's 
keeping  into  his  own  was  not,  of  course,  the  real 
gold  which  the  bandits  had  seen  through  the  win- 
dow. Luck,  careful  of  his  responsibilities,  had 
waited  while  the  cashier  locked  the  bank's  money 
in  the  vault,  and  had  replaced  it  with  brass  coins 
that  looked  real  —  to  the  camera. 

The  cashier  lived  then  the  biggest  moments  of 
his  life.  He  was  forced  upon  his  back  across  a 
101 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

desk  that  had  been  carefully  cleared  of  the  bank's 
papers  and  as  carefully  strewn  with  worthless  ones 
which  Luck  had  brought.  A  realistically  uncom- 
fortable gag  had  been  forced  into  the  mouth  of  the 
cashier  —  where  it  brought  twinges  from  some 
fresh  dental  work,  by  the  way  —  and  the  bandits 
had  taken  everything  in  sight  that  they  fancied. 

Ramon  and  Luis  Eojas  had  proven  themselves 
artists  in  this  particular  line  of  work,  and  the 
cashier,  when  it  was  all  over  and  the  camera  and 
company  were  busily  at  work  elsewhere,  lived  it  in 
his  imagination  and  felt  that  he  was  at  least  tast- 
ing the  full  flavor  of  red-blooded  adventure  with- 
out having  to  pay  the  usual  price  of  bitterness  and 
bodily  suffering.  He  was  mistaken,  of  course  — 
as  I  am  going  to  explain.  What  the  cashier  had 
taken  part  in  was  not  the  adventure  itself  but 
merely  a  rehearsal  and  general  preparation  for  the 
real  performance. 

This  had  been  on  Wednesday,  just  after  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  On  Saturday  forenoon 
the  cashier  was  called  upon  the  phone  and  asked 
if  a  part  of  that  robbery  stuff  could  be  retaken  that 
day.  The  cashier  thrilled  instantly  at  the  thought 
102 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

of  it.  Certainly,  they  could  retake  as  much  as 
they  pleased.  Luck's  voice  —  or  a  voice  very  like 
Luck's  —  thanked  him  and  said  that  they  would 
not  -need  to  retake  the  interior  stuff.  What  he 
wanted  was  to  get  the  approach  to  the  bank,  the 
entrance  and  going  back  to  the  cashier.  That  part 
of  the  negative  was  under-timed,  said  the  voice. 
And  would  the  cashier  make  a  display  of  gold  be- 
hind the  wicket,  so  that  the  camera  could  register 
it  through  the  window  ?  The  cashier  thought  that 
he  could.  "  Just  stack  it  up  good  and  high,"  di- 
rected the  voice.  "  The  more  the  better.  And 
clear  the  bank  —  have  the  clerks  out,  and  every- 
thing as  near  as  possible  to  what  it  was  the  other 
day.  And  you  take  up  the  same  position.  The 
scene  ends  where  Ramon  comes  back  and  grabs 
you. 

"  And  listen !  You  did  so  well  the  other  day 
that  I'm  going  to  leave  this  to  you,  to  see  that  they 
get  it  the  same.  I  can't  be  there  myself  —  IVe 
got  to  catch  some  atmosphere  stuff  down  here  in 
Old  Town.  I'm  just  sending  my  assistant  camera 
man  and  the  two  heavies  and  my  scenic  artist  for 
this  retake.  It  won't  be  much  —  but  be  sure  you 
103 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

have  the  bank  cleared,  old  man  —  because  it  would 
ruin  the  following  scenes  to  have  extra  people  reg- 
istered in  this;  see?  You  did  such  dandy  work 
in  that  struggle  that  I  want  it  to  stand.  Boy,  your 
work's  sure  going  to  stand  out  on  the  screen !  " 

Can  you  blame  the  cashier  for  drinking  in  every 
word  of  that,  and  for  emptying  the  vault  of  gold 
and  stacking  it  up  in  beautiful,  high  piles  where 
the  sun  shone  on  it  through  the  window  —  and 
where  it  would  be  within  easy  reach,  by  the  way ! 
—  so  that  the  camera  could  "  register  "  it  ? 

At  ten  minutes  past  twelve  he  had  gotten  rid  of 
patrons  and  clerks,  and  he  had  the  gold  out  and  his 
green  eyeshade  adjusted  as  becomingly  as  a  green 
eyeshade  may  be  adjusted.  He  looked  out  and 
saw  that  the  street  was  practically  empty,  because 
of  the  hour  and  the  heat  that  was  almost  intoler- 
able where  the  sun  shone  full.  He  saw  a  big  red 
machine  drive  up  to  the  corner  and  stop,  and  he 
saw  a  man  climb  out  with  camera  already  screwed 
to  the  tripod.  He  saw  the  bandits  throw  away 
their  cigarettes  and  follow  the  camera  man,  and 
then  he  hurried  back  and  took  up  his  station  be- 
side the  stacks  of  gold,  and  waited  in  a  twitter  of 
104 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

excitement  for  this  unhoped-for  encore  of  last 
Wednesday's  glorious  performance.  Through  the 
window  he  watched  the  camera  being  set  up,  and 
he  watched  also,  from  under  his  eyeshade,  the 
approach  of  the  two  bandits. 

From  there  on  a  gap  occurs  in  the  cashier's  mem- 
ory of  that  day. 

Eamon  and  Luis  went  into  the  bank,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  they  came  out  again  burdened  with 
bags  of  specie  and  pulled  the  door  shut  with  the 
spring  lock  set  and  the  blinds  down  that  proclaimed 
the  bank  was  closed.  They  climbed  into  the  red 
automobile,  the  camera  and  its  operator  followed, 
and  the  machine  went  away  down  the  street  to  the 
post-office,  turned  and  went  purring  into  the  Mex- 
ican quarter  which  spreads  itself  out  toward  the 
lower  bridge  that  spans  the  Eio  Grande.  This 
much  a  dozen  persons  could  tell  you.  Beyond  that 
no  man  seemed  to  know  what  became  of  the  outfit. 
j  In  the  bank,  the  cashier  lay  back  across  a  desk 
with  a  gag  in  his  mouth  and  his  hands  and  feet  tied, 
and  with  a  welt  on  the  side  of  his  head  that  swelled 
and  bled  sluggishly  for  a  while  and  then  stopped 
and  became  an  angry  purple.  Where  the  gold  had 
105 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

been  stacked  high  in  the  sunshine  the  marble  glis- 
tened whitely,  with  not  so  much  as  a  five-dollar 
piece  to  give  it  a  touch  of  color.  The  window 
blinds  were  drawn  down  —  the  bank  was  closed. 
And  people  passed  the  windows  and  never  guessed 
that  within  there  lay  a  sickly  young  man  who  had 
craved  adventure  and  found  it,  and  would  presently 
awake  to  taste  its  bitter  flavor. 

Away  off  across  the  mesa,  sweltering  among  the 
rocks  in  Bear  Canon,  Luck  Lindsay  panted  and 
sweated  and  cussed  the  heat  and  painstakingly 
directed  his  scenes,  and  never  dreamed  that  a  like- 
ness of  his  voice  had  beguiled  the  cashier  of  the 
Bernalillo  County  Bank  into  consenting  to  be 
robbed  and  beaten  into  oblivion  of  his  betrayal. 

And  —  although  some  heartless  teller  of  tales 
might  keep  you  in  the  dark  about  this  —  the  red 
automobile,  having  dodged  hurriedly  into  a  high- 
boarded  enclosure  behind  a  Mexican  saloon, 
emerged  presently  and  went  boldly  off  across  the 
bridge  and  up  through  Atrisco  to  the  sand  hills 
which  is  the  beginning  of  the  desert  off  that  way. 
But  another  automobile,  bigger  and  more  powerful 
and  black,  slipped  out  of  this  same  enclosure  upon 
106 


ADVENTURE  COMES  SMILING 

another  street,  and  turned  eastward  instead  of  west. 
This  machine  made  for  the  mesa  by  a  somewhat 
roundabout  course,  and  emerged,  by  way  of  a  rough 
trail  up  a  certain  draw  in  the  edge  of  the  tableland, 
to  the  main  road  where  it  turns  the  corner  of  the 
cemetery.  From  there  the  driver  drove  as  fast  as 
he  dared  until  he  reached  the  hill  that  borders 
Tijeras  Arroyo.  There  being  no  sign  of  pursuit 
to  this  point,  he  crossed  the  Arroyo  at  a  more  lei- 
surely pace.  Then  he  went  speeding  away  into  the 
edge  of  the  mountains  until  they  reached  one  of 
those  deep,  deserted  dry  washes  that  cut  the  foot- 
hills here  and  there  near  Coyote  Springs.  There 
his  passengers  left  him  and  disappeared  up  the  dry 
wash. 

Before  the  wound  on  the  cashier's  head  had 
stopped  bleeding,  the  black  automobile  was  return- 
ing innocently  to  town  and  no  man  guessed  what 
business  had  called  it  out  upon  the  mesa. 


107 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   SONG   OF   THE   OMAHA 

*  'IV /|"E,  I  theenk  yoh  not  lov'  me  so  moch  as 
L*  A  a  pin,"  Ramon  complained  in  soft  re- 
proach, down  in  the  dry  wash  where  Applehead 
had  looked  in  vain  for  baling  wire.  "  Sometimes 
I  show  yoh  what  is  like  the  Spanish  lov'.  Like 
stars,  like  fire  — •  sometimes  I  seeng  the  jota  for  you 
that  tell  how  moch  I  lov'  yoh.  '  Te  quiero,  Ba- 
turra,  te  quiero/  "  he  began  humming  softly  while 
he  looked  at  her  with  eyes  that  shone  soft  in  the 
starlight.  "  Sometimes  me,  I  learn  yoh  dat  song 
—  and  moch  more  I  learn  yoh  — " 

Annie-Many  Ponies  stood  before  him,  straight 
and  slim  and  with  that  air  of  aloofness  which  so 
fired  Ramon's  desire  for  her.  She  lifted  a  hand  to 
check  him,  and  Ramon  stopped  instantly  and 
waited.  So  far  had  her  power  over  him  grown. 

"  All  time  you  tell  me  you  heap  love,"  she  said 
in  her  crooning  soft  voice.     "  Why  you  not  talk  of 
108 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

priest  to  make  us  marry  ?  You  say  words  for  love 
—  you  say  no  word  for  wife.  Why  you  no  say  — " 

"  Esposa !  "  Kamon's  teeth  gleamed  white  as  a 
wolf's  in  the  dusk.  "When  the  padre  marry  us 
I  maybe  teach  you  many  ways  to  say  wife !  "  He 
laughed  under  his  breath.  "  How  I  calls  yoh  wife 
when  I  not  gets  one  kees,  me  ?  ISTow  I  calls  yoh  la 
sweetheart  —  good  enough  when  I  no  gets  so  moch 
as  touches  hand  weeth  yoh." 

"  I  go  way  with  you,  you  gets  priest  for  make  us 
marry  ? "  Annie-Many-Ponies  edged  closer  so 
that  she  might  read  what  was  in  his  face. 

"  Why  yoh  no  trus'  Eamon  ?  Sure,  I  gets 
padre!  Wat  yoh  theenk  for  speak  lies,  me? 
Sure,  I  gets  padre,  foolish  one !  Me,  I  not  like  for 
yoh  no  trus'  Eamon.  Looks  like  not  moch  yoh  lov' 
Eamon." 

"  I  good  girl,"  Annie-Many-Ponies  stated 
simply.  "  I  love  my  husband  when  priest  says 
that's  right  thing  to  do.  You  no  gets  priest,  I  no 
go  with  you.  I  think  mens  not  much  cares  for 
marry  all  time.  Womens  not  care,  they  go  to  hell. 
That's  what  priest  tells.  Girls  got  to  care.  That's 
truth."  Simple  as  two-plus-two  was  the  rule  of 
109 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

life  as  Annie-Many-Ponies  laid  it  down  in  words 
before  him.  No  fine  distinctions  between  virtue 
and  superwomanhood  there,  if  you  please!  !N"« 
slurring  of  wrong  so  that  it  may  look  like  an 
exalted  right.  "  Womens  got  to  care,"  said  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  with  a  calm  certainty  that  would 
brook  no  argument. 

"  Sure  theeng,"  Ramon  agreed  easily.  "  Yoh 
theenk  I  lov'  yoh  so  moch  if  yoh  not  good  ?  " 

"  You  gets  priest  ? "  Annie-Many-Ponies  per- 
sisted. 

"  Sure,  I  gets  padre.  You  theenk  Eamon  lies 
for  soch  theeng  ?  " 

"  You  swear,  then,  all  same  white  mans  in  pic- 
ture makes  oath."  There  was  a  new  quality  of 
inflexibility  under  the  soft  music  of  her  voice. 
"  You  lift  up  hand  and  says,  '  Help  me  by  God  I 
makes  you  f or-sure  my  wife ! '  She  had  pon- 
dered long  upon  this  oath,  and  she  spoke  it  now 
with  an  easy  certainty  that  it  was  absolutely  bind- 
ing, and  that  no  man  would  dare  break  it.  "  You 
makes  that  swear  now,"  she  urged  gently. 

"  Foolish  one !  Yoh  theenk  I  mus'  swear  I  do 
what  my  hearts  she's  want?  I  tell  yoh  many 
110 


times  we  go  on  one  ranch  my  brother  Tomas  says 
she's  be  mine.  We  lives  there  in  fine  house  weeth 
mooch  flowers,  yoh  not  so  moch  as  lif  one  finger 
for  work,  querida  mia.  Yoh  theenk  I  not  be  trus', 
me,  Ramon  what  loves  yoh  ?  " 

"  No  hurt  for  swears  what  I  tells/'  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  stepped  back  from  him  a  pace,  distrust 
creeping  into  her  voice. 

"  All  right."  Ramon  moved  nearer.  "  So  I 
make  oath,  perhaps  you  make  oath  also!  Me,  I 
theenk  yoh  perhaps  not  like  for  leave  Luck  Leen- 
say  —  I  theenk  perhaps  yoh  loves  heem,  yoh  so  all 
time  watch  for  ways  to  please !  So  I  swear,  then 
yoh  mus'  swear  also  that  yoh  come  for-sure.  That 
square  deal  for  both  —  si  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  hesitated,  a  dull  ache  in  her 
breast  when  Ramon  spoke  of  Luck.  But  if  her 
heart  was  sore  at  thought  of  him,  it  was  because  he 
no  longer  looked  upon  her  with  the  smile  in  his 
eyes.  It  was  because  he  was  not  so  kind ;  because 
he  believed  that  she  had  secret  meetings  with  Bill 
Holmes  whom  she  hated.  And  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  Bill  Holmes  had  left  the  company  the  other 
day  and  was  going  away,  Wagalexa  Conka  still 
111 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

looked  upon  her  with  cold  eyes  and  listened  to  the 
things  that  Applehead  said  against  her.  The  heart 
of  Wagalexa  Conka,  she  told  herself  miserably,  was 
like  a  stone  for  her.  And  so  her  own  heart  must 
be  hard.  She  would  swear  to  Ramon,  and  she 
would  keep  the  oath  —  and  Wagalexa  Conka  would 
not  even  miss  her  or  be  sorry  that  she  had  gone. 

"  First  you  make  swears  like  I  tells  you,"  she 
said.  "  Then  I  make  swears." 

"  Muy  bueno !  "  smiled  Ramon  then.  "  So  I 
make  oath  I  take  you  queek  to  one  good  friend  me, 
the  Padre  Dominguez.  Then  yoh  be  my  wife  for 
sure.  That  good  enough  for  yoh,  perhaps? 
Queeck  yoh  make  oath  yoh  leave  these  place 
mafiana  —  tomorra.  Yoh  go  by  ol'  rancho  where 
we  talk  so  many  time.  I  leave  horse  for  yoh. 
Yoh  ride  pas'  that  mountain,  yoh  come  for  Ber- 
nalillo.  Yoh  wait.  I  come  queeck  as  can  when 
she's  dark.  Yoh  do  that,  sweetheart  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  stilled  the  ache  in  her  heart 
with  the  thought  of  her  proud  place  beside  Ramon 
who  had  much  land  and  many  cattle  and  who  loved 
her  so  much.  She  lifted  her  hand  and  swore  she 
•would  go  with  him. 

112 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

She  slipped  away  then  and  crept  into  her  tent  in 
the  little  cluster  beside  the  house  —  for  the  com- 
pany had  forsaken  Applehead's  adobe  and  slept 
under  canvas  as  a  matter  of  choice.  "With  Indian 
cunning  she  bided  her  time  and  gave  no  sign  of 
what  was  hidden  in  her  heart.  She  rose  with  the 
others  and  brushed  her  glossy  hair  until  it  shone 
in  the  sunlight  like  the  hair  of  a  high-caste  Chinese 
woman.  She  tied  upon  it  the  new  bows  of  red 
ribbon  which  she  had  bought  in  the  secret  hope  that 
they  would  be  a  part  of  her  wedding  finery.  She 
put  on  her  Indian  gala  dress  of  beaded  buckskin 
with  the  colored  porcupine  quills  —  and  then  she 
smiled  cunningly  and  drew  a  dress  of  red-and-blue 
striped  calico  over  her  head  and  settled  the  folds 
of  it  about  her  with  little,  smoothing  pats,  so  that 
the  two  white  women,  Rosemary  and  Jean,  should 
not  notice  any  unusual  bulkiness  of  her  figure. 

She  did  not  know  how  she  would  manage  to 
escape  the  keen  eyes  of  Wagalexa  Conka  and  to 
steal  away  from  the  ranch,  especially  if  she  had  to 
work  in  the  picture  that  day.  But  Luck  uncon- 
sciously opened  wide  the  trail  for  her.  He  an- 
nounced at  breakfast  that  they  would  work  up  in 
113 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

Bear  Canon  that  day,  and  that  he  would  not  need 
Jean  or  Annie  either;  and  that,  as  it  would  be 
hotter  than  the  hinges  of  Gehenna  up  in  that  canon, 
they  had  better  stay  at  home  and  enjoy  themselves. 

Annie-Many  Ponies  did  not  betray  by  so  much 
as  a  flicker  of  the  lashes  that  she  heard  him  — 
much  less  that  it  was  the  best  of  good  news  to  her. 
She  went  into  her  tent  and  packed  all  of  her  clothes 
into  a  bundle  which  she  wrapped  in  her  plaid 
shawl,  and  was  proud  because  the  bundle  was  so 
big,  and  because  she  had  much  fine  beadwork  and 
so  many  red  ribbons,  and  a  waist  of  bright  blue  silk 
which  she  would  wear  when  she  stood  before  the 
priest,  if  Eamon  did  not  like  the  dress  of  beaded 
buckskin. 

A  ring  with  an  immense  red  stone  in  it  which 
Eamon  had  given  her,  she  slipped  upon  her  finger 
with  her  little,  inscrutable  smile.  She  was  en- 
gaged to  be  married,  now,  just  like  white  girls ;  and 
tomorrow  she  would  have  a  wide  ring  of  shiny  gold 
for  that  finger,  and  should  be  the  wife  of  Eamon. 

Just  then  Shunka  Chistala,  lying  outside  her 
tent,  flapped  his  tail  on  the  ground  and  gave  a  little, 
eager  whine.  Annie-Many-Ponies  thrust  her  head 
114 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

through  the  opening  and  looked  out,  and  then 
stepped  over  the  little  black  dog  and  stood  before 
her  tent  to  watch  the  Happy  Family  mount  and 
ride  away  with  Wagalexa  Conka  in  their  midst 
and  with  the  mountain  wagon  rattling  after  them 
loaded  with  "  props  "  and  the  camera  and  the  noon- 
day lunch  and  Pete  Lowry  and  Tommy  Johnson, 
the  scenic  artist.  Applehead  was  going  to  drive 
the  wagon,  and  she  scowled  when  he  yanked  off  the 
brake  and  cracked  the  whip  over  the  team. 

Luck,  feeling  perchance  the  intensity  of  her  gaze, 
turned  in  the  saddle  and  looked  back.  The  eyes 
of  Annie-Many-Ponies  softened  and  saddened,  be- 
cause this  was  the  last  time  she  would  see  Wagalexa 
Conka  go  riding  away  to  make  pictures  —  the  last 
time  she  would  see  him.  She  lifted  her  hand,  and 
made  the  Indian  sign  of  farewell  —  the  peace-go- 
with-you  sign  that  is  used  for  solemn  occasions  of 
parting. 

Luck  pulled  up  short  and  stared.  What  did  she 
mean  by  that  ?  He  reined  his  horse  around,  half 
minded  to  ride  back  and  ask  her  why  she  gave  him 
that  peace-sign.  She  had  never  done  it  before, 
except  once  or  twice  in  scenes  that  he  directed. 
115 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

But  after  all  he  did  not  go.  They  were  late  in 
getting  started  that  morning,  which  irked  his  ener- 
getic soul ;  and  women's  whims  never  did  impress 
Luck  Lindsay  very  deeply.  Besides,  just  as  he 
was  turning  to  ride  back,  Annie  stooped  and  went 
into  her  tent  as  though  her  gesture  had  carried  no 
especial  meaning. 

Then  in  her  tent  he  heard  her  singing  the  high, 
weird  chant  of  the  Omaha  mourning  song  and 
again  he  was  half-minded  to  go  back,  though  the 
wailing  minor  notes,  long  drawn  and  mournful, 
might  mean  much  or  they  might  mean  merely  a  fit 
of  the  blues.  The  others  rode  on  talking  and 
laughing  together,  and  Luck  rode  with  them;  but 
the  chant  of  the  Omaha  was  in  his  ears  and  tingling 
his  nerves.  And  the  vision  of  Annie-Many-Ponies 
standing  straight  before  her  tent  and  making  the 
sign  of  peace  and  farewell  haunted  him  that  day. 

Eosemary  and  Jean,  standing  in  the  porch, 
waved  good-bye  to  their  men  folk  until  the  last 
bobbing  hatcrown  had  gone  down  out  of  sight  in 
the  long,  low  swale  that  creased  the  mesa  in  that 
direction.  Whereupon  they  went  into  the  house. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  Annie  ?  " 
116 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

Jean  exploded,  with  a  little  shiver.  "  I'd  rather 
hear  a  band  of  gray  wolves  tune  up  when  you're 
caught  out  in  the  breaks  and  have  to  ride  in  the 
dark.  What  is  that  caterwaul?  Do  you  suppose 
she's  on  the  warpath  or  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  just  the  squaw  coming  out  in  her !  " 
Rosemary  slammed  the  door  shut  so  they  could  not 
hear  so  plainly.  "  She's  getting  more  Injuny 
every  day  of  her  life.  I  used  to  try  and  treat 
her  like  a  white  girl  —  but  you  just  can't  do  it, 
Jean." 

"  Hiu-Mu-hi-i-ah-h  !  Hiurhiu-hi-i-ah-h-Ji  —  Jiia- 
aa-'h-'h!" 

Jean  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  lis- 
tened. "  Br-r-r !  "  she  shivered  —  and  one  could 
not  blame  her.  "  I  wonder  if  she'd  be  mad,"  she 
drawled,  "  if  I  went  out  and  told  her  to  shut  up. 
It  sounds  as  if  somebody  was  dead,  or  going  to  die 
or  something.  Like  Lite  says  your  dog  will  howl 
if  anything — " 

"  Oh,  for  pity  sake !  "    Rosemary  pushed  her 

into  the  living  room  with  make-believe  savageness. 

"  I've  heard  her  and  Luck  sing  that  last  winter. 

And  there's  a  kind  of  a  teetery  dance  that  goes  with 

117 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

it.  It's  supposed  to  be  a  mourning  song,  as  Luck 
explains  it.  But  don't  pay  any  attention  to  her 
at  all.  She  just  does  it  to  get  on  our  nerves.  It'd 
tickle  her  to  death  if  she  thought  it  made  us 
nervous." 

"  And  now  the  dog  is  joining  in  on  the  chorus ! 
I  must  say  they're  a  cheerful  pair  to  have  around 
the  house.  And  I  know  one  thing  —  if  they  keep 
that  up  much  longer,  I'll  either  get  out  there  with 
a  gun,  or  saddle  up  and  follow  the  boys." 

"  They'd  tease  us  to  death,  Jean,  if  we  let  Annie 
run  us  out." 

"  It's  run  or  be  run,"  Jean  retorted  irritatedly. 
"  I  wanted  to  write  poetry  today  —  I  thought  of 
an  awfully  striking  sentence  about  the  —  for 
heaven's  sake,  where's  a  shotgun  ?  " 

"  Jean,  you  wouldn't !  "  Rosemary,  I  may  here 
explain,  was  very  femininely  afraid  of  guns. 
"  She'd  —  why,  "there's  no  telling  what  she  might 
do !  Luck  says  she  carries  a  knife." 

"  What  if  she  does  ?  She  ought  to  carry  a  few 
bird-shot,  too.  She's  got  nothing  to  mourn  about 
—  nobody's  died,  has  there  ?  " 

"  Hiu-Jiiu-hia-a-a-ah !  Eia-a-a-a-ah !  "  wailed 
118 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

Annie-Many-Ponies  in  her  tent,  because  she  would 
never  again  look  upon  the  face  of  Wagalexa  Conka 
—  or  if  she  did  it  would  be  to  see  his  anger  blaze 
'and  burn  her  heart  to  ashes.  To  her  it  was  as 
though  death  sat  beside  her ;  the  death  of  Wagalexa 
Conka's  friendship  for  her.  She  forgot  his  harsh- 
ness because  he  thought  her  disobedient  and 
wicked.  She  forgot  that  she  loved  Kamon  Chavez, 
and  that  he  was  rich  and  would  give  her  a  fine 
home  and  much  love.  She  forgot  everything  but 
that  she  had  sworn  an  oath  and  that  she  must  keep 
it  though  it  killed  faith  and  kindness  and  friend- 
ship as  with  a  knife. 

So  she  wailed,  in  high-keyed,  minor  chanting 
unearthly  in  its  primitive  inarticulateness  of  sor-r 
row,  the  chant  of  the  Omaha  mourning  song.  So 
had  her  tribe  wailed  in  the  olden  days  when  war- 
riors returned  to  the  villages  and  told  of  their  dead. 
So  had  her  mother  wailed  when  the  Great  Spirit 
took  away  her  first  man-child.  So  had  the  squaws 
wailed  in  their  tepees  since  the  land  was  young. 
And  the  little  black  dog,  sitting  on  his  haunches 
before  her  door,  pointed  his  moist  nose  into  the 
sunlight  and  howled  in  mournful  sympathy. 
119 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Oh,  my  gracious !  "  Jean,  usually  so  calm, 
flung  a  magazine  against  the  wall.  "  This  is  just 
about  as  pleasant  as  a  hanging!  Let's  saddle  up 
and  ride  in  after  the  mail,  Rosemary.  Maybe  the 
squaw  in  her  will  be  howled  out  by  the  time  we  get 
back."  And  she  added  with  a  venomous  sincerity 
that  would  have  warmed  the  heart  of  old  Apple- 
head,  "  I'd  shoot  that  dog,  for  half  a  cent !  How 
do  you  suppose  an  animal  of  his  size  can  produce 
all  that  noise  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ! "  Eosemary  spoke  with 
the  patience  of  utter  weariness.  "  I've  stood  her 
and  the  dog  for  about  eight  months  and  I'm  getting 
kind  of  hardened  to  it.  But  I  never  did  hear  them 
go  on  like  that  before.  You'd  think  all  her  rela- 
tions were  being  murdered,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

Jean  was  busy  getting  into  her  riding  clothes 
and  did  not  say  what  she  thought ;  but  you  may  be 
sure  that  it  was  antipathetic  to  the  grief  of  Annie- 
Many-Ponies,  and  that  Jean's  attitude  was  caused 
by  a  complete  lack  of  understanding.  Which,  if 
you  will  stop  to  think,  is  true  of  half  the  unsympa- 
thetic attitudes  in  the  world.  Because  they  did 
not  understand,  the  two  dressed  hastily  and  tucked 
120 


their  purses  safely  inside  their  shirtwaists  and 
saddled  and  rode  away  to  town.  And  the  last  they 
heard  as  they  put  the  ranch  behind  them  was  the 
wailing  chant  of  Annie-Many-Ponies  and  the 
prodigious,  long-drawn  howling  of  the  little  blaclj 

dog- 
Annie-Many-Ponies,  hearing  the  beat  of  hocfe 
ceased  her  chanting  and  looked  out  in  time  to  see 
the  girls  just  disappearing  over  the  low  brow  of 
the  hill.  She  stood  for  a  moment  and  stared  after 
them  with  frowning  brows.  Rosemary  she  did 
not  like  and  never  would  like,  after  their  hidden 
feud  of  months  over  such  small  matters  as  the  cat 
and  the  dog,  and  unswept  floors,  and  the  like.  A 
mountain  of  unwashed  dishes  stood  between  these 
two,  as  it  were,  and  forbade  anything  like  friend- 
ship. 

But  the  parting  that  was  at  hand  had  brushed 
aside  her  jealousy  of  Jean  as  leading  woman.  In- 
tuitively she  knew  that  with  any  encouragement 
Jean  would  have  been  her  friend.  Oddly,  she  re- 
membered now  that  Jean  had  been  the  first  to  ask 
for  her  when  she  came  to  the  ranch.  So,  although 
Jean  would  never  know,  Annie-Many-Ponies  raised 
121 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

her  hand  and  gave  the  peace-and-farewell  sign  of 
the  plains  Indians. 

The  way  was  open  now,  and  she  must  go.  She 
had  sworn  that  she  would  meet  Ramon  —  but  oh, 
the  heart  of  her  was  heavier  than  the  bundle  which 
she  bound  with  her  bright  red  sash  and  lifted  to 
her  shoulders  with  the  sash  drawn  across  her  chest 
and  shoulders.  So  had  the  women  of  her  tribe 
borne  burdens  since  the  land  was  young ;  but  none 
had  ever  borne  a  heavier  load  than  did  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  when  she  went  soft  footed  across  the 
open  space  to  the  dry  wash  and  down  that  to 
another,  and  so  on  and  on  until  she  crossed  the  low 
ridge  and  came  down  to  the  deserted  old  rancho 
with  its  crumbling  adobe  cabins  and  the  well  where 
she  had  waited  so  often  for  Ramon. 

She  was  tired  when  she  reached  the  well,  for  her 
back  was  not  used  to  burden-bearing  as  had  been 
her  mother's,  and  her  steps  had  lagged  because  of 
the  heaviness  that  was  in  her  chest.  It  seemed  to 
her  that  some  bad  spirit  was  driving  her  forth  an 
exile.  She  could  not  understand.  Last  night  she 
had  been  glad  at  the  thought  of  going,  and  if  the 
thought  of  leaving  "Wagalexa  Conka  so  treacher- 
122 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

ously  had  hurt  like  a  knife-thrust,  still,  she  had 
sworn  willingly  enough  that  she  would  go. 

The  horse  was  there,  saddled  and  tied  in  a 
tumble-down  shed  just  as  Ramon  had  promised 
that  it  would  be.  Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not 
mount  and  ride  on  immediately,  however.  It  was 
still  early  in  the  forenoon,  and  she  was  not  so  eager 
in  reality  as  she  had  been  in  anticipation.  She 
sat  down  beside  the  well  and  stared  somberly  away 
to  the  mountains,  and  wondered  why  she  was  so 
sad  when  she  should  be  happy.  She  twisted  the 
ring  with  the  big  red  stone  round  and  round  her 
finger,  but  she  got  no  pleasure  from  the  crimson 
glow  of  it.  The  stone  looked  to  her  now  like  a 
great,  frozen  drop  of  blood.  She  wondered  grimly 
whose  blood  it  was,  and  stared  at  it  strangely  be- 
fore her  eyes  went  again  worshipfully  to  the  moun- 
tains which  she  loved  and  which  she  must  leave 
and  perhaps  never  see  again  as  they  looked  from 
there,  and  from  the  ranch. 

She  must  ride  and  ride  until  she  was  around  on 

the  other  side  of  that  last  one  that  had  the  funny, 

pointed  cone  top  like  a  big  stone  tepee.     On  the 

other  side  was  Eamon,  and  the  priest,  and  the 

123 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

strange  new  life  of  which  she  was  beginning  to 
feel  afraid.  There  would  be  no  more  riding  up 
to  camera,  laughing  or  sighing  or  frowning  as 
Wagalexa  Conka  commanded  her  to  do.  There 
would  be  no  more  shy  greetings  of  the  slim  young 
woman  in  riding  skirt  —  the  friendship  scenes  and 
the  black-browed  anger,  while  Pete  Lowry  turned 
the  camera  and  Luck  stood  beside  him  telling  her 
just  what  she  must  do,  and  smiling  at  her  when  she 
•did  it  well. 

There  would  be  Ramon,  and  the  priest  and  the 
'wide  ring  of  shiny  gold  —  what  more?  The 
mountains,  all  pink  and  violet  and  smiling  green 
and  soft  gray  —  the  mountains  hid  the  new  life 
from  her.  And  she  must  ride  around  that  last, 
sharp-pointed  one,  and  come  into  the  new  life  that 
was  on  the  other  side  —  and  what  if  it  should  be 
bitter  ?  What  if  Ramon's  love  did  not  live  beyond 
the  wide  ring  of  shiny  gold  ?  She  had  seen  it  so, 
with  other  men  and  other  maids. 

No  matter.     She  had  sworn  the  oath  that  she 

would  go.     But  first,  there  at  the  old  well  where 

Ramon  had  taught  her  the  Spanish  love  words, 

there  where  she  had  listened  shyly  and  happily  to 

124 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  OMAHA 

his  voice  that  was  so  soft  and  so  steeped  in  love, 
Annie-Many-Ponies  stood  up  with  her  face  to  the 
mountains  and  sorrow  in  her  eyes,  and  chanted 
again  the  wailing,  Omaha  mourning-song.  And 
just  hehind  her  the  little  black  dog,  that  had  fol- 
lowed close  to  her  heels  all  the  way,  sat  upon  his 
haunches  and  pointed  his  nose  to  the  sky  and 
howled. 

For  a  long  time  she  wailed.  Then  to  the  moun- 
tains that  she  loved  she  made  the  sign  of  peace- 
and-farewell,  and  turned  herself  stoically  to  the 
keeping  of  her  oath.  Her  bundle  that  was  so  big 
and  heavy  she  placed  in  the  saddle  and  fastened 
with  the  saddle-string  and  with  the  red  sash  that 
had  bound  it  across  her  chest  and  shoulders. 
Then,  as  her  great  grandmother  had  plodded  across 
the  bleak  plains  of  the  Dakotas  at  her  master's  be- 
hest, Annie-Many-Ponies  took  the  bridle  reins  and 
led  the  horse  out  of  the  ruin,  and  started  upon  her 
plodding,  patient  journey  to  what  lay  beyond  the 
mountains.  Behind  her  the  black  horse  walked 
with  drooping  head,  half  asleep  in  the  warm  sun- 
light. At  the  heels  of  the  horse  followed  the  little 
black  dog. 

125 


CHAPTER  IX 

BIDEES   IN"   THE   BACKGROUND 

LUCK,  as  explained  elsewhere,  was  sweating 
and  swearing  at  the  heat  in  Bear  Canon. 
The  sun  had  crept  around  so  that  it  shone  full  into 
a  certain  bowlder-strewn  defile,  and  up  this  sun- 
baked gash  old  Applehead  was  toiling,  leading  the 
scrawniest  burro  which  Luck  had  been  able  to  find 
in  the  country.  The  burro  was  packed  with  a 
prospector's  outfit  startlingly  real  in  its  pathetic 
meagerness.  Old  Applehead  was  picking  his  way 
among  rocks  so  hot  that  he  could  hardly  bear  to  lay 
his  bare  hand  upon  them,  tough  as  that  hand  was 
with  years  of  exposure  to  heat  and  cold  alike. 
Beads  of  perspiration  were  standing  on  his  face, 
which  was  a  deep,  apoplectic  crimson,  and  little 
trickles  of  sweat  were  dropping  off  his  lower  jaw. 
He  was  muttering  as  he  climbed,  but  the  camera 
fortunately  failed  to  record  the  language  that  he 
used.  Now  and  then  he  turned  and  yanked  sav- 
126 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

agely  at  the  lead  rope ;  whereupon  the  burro  would 
sit  down  upon  its  haunches  and  allow  Applehead 
to  stretch  its  neck  as  far  as  bone  and  tough  hide 
and  tougher  sinew  would  permit.  Someone  among 
the  group  roosting  in  the  shade  across  the  defile  and 
well  out  of  camera  range  would  laugh,  and  Luck, 
standing  on  a  ledge  just  behind  and  above  the 
camera,  would  shout  directions  or  criticism  of  the 
"  business." 

"  Come  on  back,  Applehead,"  Luck  yelled  when 
the  "  prospector  "  had  turned  a  corner  of  rock  and 
disappeared  from  sight  of  the  camera.  "We'll 
do  that  scene  over  once  more  before  the  sun  gets 
too  far  around." 

"  Do  it  over,  will  ye  ?  "  Applehead  snarled  as  he 
came  toiling  obediently  back  down  the  gulch. 
"  Well,  now,  I  ain't  so  danged  shore  about  that 
there  doin'  over  — 'nless  yuh  want  to  wait  and  do  it 
after  sundown.  Ain't  nobody  but  a  danged  fool 
't  would  go  trailin'  up  that  there  gulch  this  kinda 
day.  Them  rocks  up  there  is  hot  enough  to  brile 
a  lizard  —  now,  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 

Luck  covered  a  smile  with  his  moist  palm.  He 
could  not  afford  to  be  merciful  at  the  expense  of 
127 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

good  "  picture-stuff,"  however,  so  he  called  down 
grimly : 

"  Now  you're  just  about  fagged  enough  for  that 
close-up  I  want  of  you,  Applehead.  You  went  up 
that  gulch  a  shade  too  brisk  for  a  fellow  that's  all 
in  from  traveling,  and  starved  into  the  bargain. 
Come  back  down  here  by  this  sand  bank,  and  start 
up  towards  camera.  Back  up  a  little,  Pete,  so  you 
can  '  pam '  his  approach.  I  want  to  get  him  pull- 
ing his  burro  up  past  that  bank  —  sabe  ?  And  the 
close-up  of  his  face  with  all  those  sweat-streaks  will 
prove  how  far  he's  come  —  and  then  I  want  the 
detail  of  that  burro  and  his  pack  which  you'll  get 
as  they  go  by.  You  see  what  I  mean.  Let's  see. 
Will  it  swing  you  too  far  into  the  sun,  Pete,  if  you 
pick  him  up  down  there  in  that  dry  channel  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  let  me  make  it  right  away,"  Pete 
replied  after  a  squint  or  two  through  the  view- 
finder.  "  Sun's  getting  pretty  far  over  — " 

"  Ought  to  leave  a  feller  time  to  git  his  wind," 
Applehead  complained,  looking  up  at  Luck  with 
eyes  bloodshot  from  the  heat.  "  I  calc'late  mebby 
you  think  it's  fun  to  drag  that  there  burro  up  over 
them  rocks  ? " 

128 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

"  Sure,  it  isn't  fun.  We  didn't  come  out  here 
for  fun.  Go  down  and  wait  behind  that  bank,  and 
come  out  into  the  channel  when  I  give  the  word. 
I  want  you  coming  up  all-in,  just  as  you  look  right 
now.  Sorry,  but  I  can't  let  you  wait  to  cool  off, 
Applehead." 

"  Well  now,"  Applehead  began  with  short- 
winded  sarcasm,  "  I'm  s'posed  to  be  outa  grub. 
Why  didn't  yuh  up  'n'  starve  me  fer  a  week  or  two, 
so'st  I'd  be  gaunted  up  realistic  ?  Why  didn't  yuh 
break  a  laig  fer  me,  sos't  I  kin  show  some  five-cent 
bunch  in  a  pitcher-show  how  bad  I'm  off  ?  Danged 
if  I  ain't  jest  about  gittin'  my  hide  full  uh  this  here 
danged  fool  reelism  you're  hollerin'  fur  all  the 
time.  •  T  you  send  me  down  there  to  come  haulin* 
that  there  burro  back  up  here  so's  the  camery  kin 
watch  me  sweat  'n'  puff  my  danged  daylights  out 
—  before  I  git  a  drink  uh  water,  I'll  murder  ye  in 
cold  blood,  now  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 

"  You  go  on  down  there  and  shut  up !  "  Luck 
yelled  inexorably.  "  You  can  drink  a  barrel  when 
I'm  through  with  this  scene  —  and  not  before. 
Get  that  ?  My  Lord !  If  you  can't  lead  a  burro 
a  hundred  yards  without  setting  down  and  fanning 
129 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

yourself  to  sleep,  you  must  be  losing  your  grip  for 
fair.  I'll  stake  you  to  a  rocking-chair  and  let  you 
do  old  grandpa  parts,  if  you  aren't  able  to  — " 

"  Dang  you,  Luck,  if  you  wasn't  such  a  little 
runt  I'd  come  up  there  and  jest  about  lick  the  pants 
off  you !  Talk  that  way  to  me,  will  ye  ?  I'll  have 
ye  know  I  kin  lead  burros  with  you  or  any  other 
dang  man,  heat  er  no  heat.  Ef  yuh  ain't  got  no 
more  heart'n  to  ast  it  of  me,  I'll  haul  this  here 
burro  up  V  down  this  dang  gulch  till  there  ain't 
nothin'  left  of  'im  but  the  lead-rope,  and  the  rocks 
is  all  wore  down  to  cobble-stone!  Ole  grandpa 
parts,  hey  ?  You'll  swaller  them  words  when  I  git 
to  ye,  young  feller  —  and  you'll  swaller  'em  mighty 
dang  quick,  now  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 

He  went  off  down  the  gulch  to  the  sand  bank. 
The  Happy  Family,  sprawled  at  ease  in  the  shade, 
took  cigarettes  from  their  lips  that  they  might 
chortle  their  amusement  at  the  two.  Like  father 
and  son  were  Applehead  and  Luck,  but  their  bicker- 
ings certainly  would  never  lead  one  to  suspect  their 
affection. 

"  Get  that  darned  burro  outa  sight,  will  you  ? " 
Luck  bawled  impatiently  when  Applehead  paused 
130 


EIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

to  send  a  murderous  glance  back  toward  camera. 
"  What's  the  matter  —  yuh,  paralyzed,  down  there  ? 
Haul  him  in  behind  that  bank !  The  moon'll  be  up 
before  you  get  turned  around,  at  that  rate !  " 

"  You  shet  yore  haid !  "  Applehead  retorted  at 
the  full  capacity  of  his  lungs  and  with  an  absolute 
disregard  for  Luck's  position  as  director  of  the 
company.  "  Who's  leadin'  this  here  burro  —  you 
er  me  ?  Per  two  cents  I'd  come  back  and  knock 
the  tar  outa  you,  Luck !  Stand  up  there  on  a  rock 
and  flop  your  wings  and  crow  like  a  danged  banty 
rooster — 'n'  I  was  leadin'  burros  'fore  you  was 
born !  I'd  like  to  know  who  yuh  think  you  l>e  ?  " 

Pete  Lowry,  standing  feet-apart  and  imperturb- 
ably  focussing  the  camera  while  the  two  yelled  in- 
sults at  each  other,  looked  up  at  Luck. 

"  Eiders  in  the  background,"  he  announced 
laconically,  and  returned  to  his  squinting  and  fuss- 
ing. "  Maybe  you  can  make  'em  hear  with  the 
megaphone,"  he  hinted,  looking  again  at  Luck. 
"  They're  riding  straight  up  the  canon,  in  the  mid- 
dle distance.  They'll  register  in  the  scene,  if  you 
can't  turn  'em." 

"  Applehead !  "  Luck  called  through  the  mega- 
131 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

phone  to  his  irritated  prospector.  "  Get  those 
riders  outa  the  canon  —  they're  in  the  scene !  " 

Applehead  promptly  appeared,  glaring  up  at 
Luck.  "  Well,  now,  if  I've  got  to  haul  this  here 
dang  jackass  up  this  dang  gulch,  I  cal'clate  that'll 
be  about  job  enough  for  one  man,"  he  yelled. 
"  How  yuh  expect  me  t'  go  two  ways  't  once  ? 
Hey?  Yuh  figured  that  out  yit?"  He  turned 
then  for  a  look  at  the  interrupting  strangers,  and 
immediately  they  saw  his  manner  change.  He 
straightened  up,  and  his  right  hand  crept  back 
significantly  toward  his  hip.  Applehead,  I  may 
here  explain,  was  an  ex-sheriff,  and  what  range 
men  call  a  "go-getter."  He  had  notches  on  the 
ivory  handle  of  his  gun  —  three  of  them.  In  fair 
fights  and  in  upholding  the  law  he  had  killed,  and 
he  would  kill  again  if  the  need  ever  arose,  as  those 
who  knew  him  never  doubted. 

Luck,  seeing  that  backward  movement  of  the 
hand,  unconsciously  hitched  his  own  gun  into  posi- 
tion on  his  hip  and  came  down  off  his  rock  ledge 
with  one  leap.  Just  as  instinctively  the  Happy 
Family  scrambled  out  of  the  shade  and  followed 
Luck  down  the  gulch  to  where  Applehead  stood 
132 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

facing  down  the  canon,  watchfulness  in  every  tense 
line  of  his  lank  figure.  Tommy  Johnson,  who 
never  seemed  to  be  greatly  interested  in  anything 
save  his  work,  got  up  from  where  he  lay  close  be- 
side the  camera  tripod  and  went  over  to  the  other 
side  of  the  gulch  where  he  could  see  plainer. 

Like  a  hunter  poising  his  shotgun  and  making 
ready  when  his  trained  bird-dog  points,  Luck 
walked  guardedly  down  the  gulch  to  where  Apple- 
head  stood  watching  the  horsemen  who  had  for  the 
moment  passed  out  of  sight  of  those  above. 

"  jSTow,  what's  that  danged  shurf  want,  prowlin' 
up  here  with  a  couple  uh  depittys  ? "  Applehead 
grumbled  when  he  heard  Luck's  footsteps  crunch- 
ing behind  him.  "  Uh  course,"  he  added  grimly, 
"  he  might  be  viewin'  the  scenery  —  but  it's  dang 
pore  weather  fur  pleasure-ridin',  now  I'm  tellin' 
ye !  Them  a  comin'  up  here  don't  look  good  to  me, 
Luck  — 'n'  if  they  ain't  — " 

"  How  do  you  know  it's  the  sheriff  ?  "  Luck  for 
no  reason  whatever  felt  a  sudden  heaviness  of 
spirit. 

"  Hey  ?  Think  my  eyes  is  f  ailin'  me  ?  "  Ap- 
plehead gave  him  a  sidelong  glance  of  hasty  indig- 
133 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

nation.  "  I'd  know  ole  Hank  Miller  a  mile  off 
with  m'  eyes  shet." 

By  then  the  three  riders  rode  out  into  plain 
view.  Perhaps  the  sight  of  Luck  and  Applehead 
standing  there  awaiting  their  arrival,  with  the 
whole  Happy  Family  and  Big  Aleck  Douglas  and 
Lite  Avery  moving  down  in  a  close-bunched,  ex- 
pectant group  behind  the  two,  was  construed  as 
hostility  rather  than  curiosity.  At  any  rate  the 
sheriff  and  his  deputies  shifted  meaningly  in  their 
saddles  and  came  up  sour-faced  and  grim,  and  with 
their  guns  out  and  pointing  at  the  group. 

"  Don't  go  making  any  foolish  play,  boys,"  the 
sheriff  warned.  "We  don't  want  trouble  —  we 
aren't  looking  for  any.  But  we  ain't  taking  any 
chances." 

"  Well  now,  you're  takin'  a  dang  long  chance. 
Hank  Miller,  when  yuh  come  ridin'  up  on  us  fel- 
lers like  yuh  was  cornerin'  a  bunch  uh  outlaws," 
Applehead  exploded.  But  Luck  pushed  him  aside 
and  stepped  to  the  front. 

"  Nobody's  making  any  foolish  play  but  you," 
he  answered  the  sheriff  calmly.  "You  may  not 
know  it,  but  you're  blocking  my  scene  and  the 
134 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

light's  going.  If  you've  got  any  business  with  me 
or  my  company,  get  it  over  and  then  get  out  so  we 
can  make  this  scene.  What  d'yuh  want  ?  " 

"  You,"  snapped  the  sheriff.  "  You  and  your 
bunch." 

"  Me  ?  "  Luck  took  a  step  forward.  "  What  for  ?" 

"  For  pulling  off  that  robbery  at  the  bank  to- 
day." The  sheriff  could  be  pretty  blunt,  and  he 
shot  the  charge  straight,  without  any  quibbling. 

Luck  looked  a  little  blank;  and  old  Applehead, 
shaking  with  a  very  real  anger  now,  shoved  Luck 
away  and  stepped  up  where  he  could  shake  his  fist 
under  the  sheriff's  nose. 

"  We  don't  know,  and  we  don't  give  a  cuss,  what 
you're  aimin'  at,"  he  thundered.  "  We  been  out 
here  workin'  in  this  brilin'  sun  sense  nine  o'clock 
this  mornin'.  Luck  ain't  robbed  no  bank,  ner  he 
ain't  the  kind  that  does  rob  banks,  and  I'm  here  to 
see  you  swaller  them  words  'fore  I  haul  ye  off'n 
that  horse  and  plumb  wear  ye  out!  Yuh  wanta 
think  twicet  'fore  ye  come  ridin'  up  where  I  kin 
hear  yuh  call  Luck  Lindsay  a  thief,  now  I'm  tellin' 
ye!  If  a  bank  was  robbed,  ye  better  be  gittin' 
out  after  them  that  done  it,  and  git  outa  the  way 
135 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

uh  that  camery  sos't  we  can  git  t'  work !     Git !  " 

The  sheriff  did  not  "git"  exactly,  but  he  did 
look  considerably  embarrassed.  His  eyes  went  to 
Luck  apologetically. 

"  Cashier  come  to  and  said  you'd  called  him  up 
on  the  phone  about  eleven,  claimin'  you  wanted 
to  make  a  movin'  pitcher  of  the  bank  being  robbed," 
he  explained  —  though  he  was  careful  not  to  lower 
his  gun.  "  He  swore  it  was  your  men  that  done 
the  work  and  took  the  gold  you  told  him  to  pile 
out  on  the  — " 

"  I  told  him  ?  "  Luck's  voice  had  the  sharpened 
quality  that  caused  laggard  actors  to  jump.  "  Be 
a  little  more  exact  in  the  words  you  use." 

"  Well-1  —  somebody  on  the  phone  't  he  thought 
was  you,"  the  sheriff  amended  obediently.  "  Your 
men  —  and  they  sure  was  your  men,  because  three 
or  four  fellers  besides  the  cashier  seen  'em  goin' 
in  and  comin'  out  —  they  gagged  the  cashier  and 
took  his  keys  away  from  him  and  cleaned  the  safe, 
besides  taking  what  gold  he'd  piled  on  the  counter 
for  y —  for  'em. 

"  So,"  he  finished  vigorously,  "  I  an'  my  men 
hit  the  tfail  fer  the  ranch  and  was  told  by  the 
136 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

women  that  you  was  out  here.  And  here  we  are, 
and  you  might  just  as  well  come  along  peaceable 
as  to  make  a  fuss  — " 

1  "  That  thar  is  shore  enough  outa  you,  Hank 
Miller !  "  Applehead  exploded  again.  "  I  calc'late 
you  kin  count  me  in,  when  you  go  mixin'  up  with 
Luck,  here.  I'm  one  of  his  men  —  and  if  he  was 
to  pull  off  a  bank  robbery  I  calc'late  I'd  be  in  on 
that  there  performance  too,  I'm  tellin'  you !  Luck 
don't  go  no  whars  ner  do  nothin'  that  I  ain't  in  on. 

"  I've  had  some  considerable  experience  as  shurf 
myself,  if  you'll  take  the  trouble  to  recolleck ;  and 
I  calc'late  my  word'll  go  about  as  fur  as  the  next. 
When  I  tell  ye  thar  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  arrest  made 
in  Bear  Canon,  and  that  you  ain't  goin'  to  take 
Luck  in  fer  no  bank  robbery,  you  kin  be  dang 
shore  I  mean  every  word  uh  that  thar !  "  He 
moved  a  step  or  two  nearer  the  sheriff,  and  the 
sheriff  backed  his  horse  away  from  him. 

"  Ef  you  kin  cut  out  this  here  accusin'  Luck, 
and  talk  like  a  white  man,"  Applehead  continued 
heatedly,  "we'd  like  to  hear  the  straight  uh  this 
here  robbery.  I  would,  'n'  I  know  Luck  would, 
seein'  they've  gone  t'  work  and  mixed  him  into  it. 
137 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

His  bunch  is  all  here,  as  you  kin  see  fer  yourself. 
IsTow  we're  listenin'  's  long's  you  talk  polite  — 'n* 
you  kin  tell  us  what  men  them  was  that  was  seen 
goin'  in  and  comin'  out  —  and  all  about  the  hull 
dang  business." 

The  sheriff  had  not  ridden  to  Bear  Canon  ex- 
pecting to  be  bullied  into  civil  speech  and  lengthy 
explanations;  but  he  knew  Applehead  Furrman, 
and  he  had  sufficient  intelligence  to  read  correctly 
the  character  of  the  group  of  men  that  stood  behind 
Applehead.  Honest  men  or  thieves,  they  were  to 
be  reckoned  with  if  any  attempt  were  made  to  place 
Luck  under  arrest ;  any  fool  could  see  that  —  and 
Hank  Miller  was  not  a  fool. 

He  proceeded  therefore  to  explain  his  errand 
and  the  robbery  as  the  cashier  had  described  it  to 
the  clerks  who  returned  after  lunch  to  finish  their 
Saturday's  work  at  the  bank. 

"  Fifteen  thousand  they  claim  is  what  the  fel- 
lers got.  And  one  of  your  men  that  runs  the 
camera  was  keeping  up  a  bluff  of  taking  a  pitcher 
of  it  all  the  time  —  that's  why  they  got  away  with 
it.  Nobody  suspicioned  it  was  anything  more'n 
moving-pitcher  acting  till  they  found  the  cashier 
138 


RIDERS  IN  THE  BACKGROUND 

and  brought  him  to,  along  about  one  o'clock.  It 
was  that  Chavez  feller  that  you  had  working  for 
yuh,  and  Luis  Rojas  that  done  it  —  them  and  a 
couple  fellers  stalling  outside  with  the  camera." 

"  I  wonder/'  hazarded  Peto  Lowry,  who  had 
come  down  and  joined  the  group,  "  if  that  wasn't 
Bill  Holmes  with  the  camera  ?  He  was  a  lot  more 
friendly  with  Ramon  than  he  tried  to  let  on." 

"  The  point  is,"  Luck  broke  in,  "  that  they  took 
advantage  of  my  holdup  scene  to  pull  off  the  rob- 
bery. I  can  see  how  the  cashier  would  fall  for  a 
retake  like  that,  especially  since  he  don't  know 
much  about  picture-making.  Gather  up  the  props, 
boys,  and  let's  go  home.  I'm  going  to  get  the 
rights  of  this  thing." 

"  You've  got  it  now,"  the  sheriff  informed  him 
huffily.  "  Think  I  been  loading  you  up  with  hot 
air  ?  I  was  sent  out  to  round  you  up  — " 

"Forget  all  that!"  snapped  Luck.  "I  don't 
know  as  I  enjoy  having  you  fellows  jump  at  the 
notion  I'm  a  bank-robber  —  or  that  if  I  had  robbed 
a  bank  I  would  have  come  right  back  here  and  gone 
to  work.  What  kind  of  a  simp  do  you  think  I  am, 
for  gosh  sake  ?  Can  you  see  where  anyone  but  a 
139 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

lunatic  would  go  like  that  in  broad  daylight  and 
pull  off  a  robbery  as  raw  as  that  one  must  have 
been,  and  not  even  make  an  attempt  at  a  getaway  ? 
I'll  gamble  Applehead,  here,  wouldn't  have  fallen 
for  a  play  as  coarse  as  that  was  if  he  was  sheriff 
yet.  He'd  have  seen  right  away  that  the  camera 
part  was  just  the  coarsest  kind  of  a  blind. 

"  My  Lord !  Think  of  grown  men  —  officers  of 
the  law  at  that  —  being  simple-minded  enough  to 
come  fogging  out  here  to  me,  instead  of  getting  on 
the  trail  of  the  men  that  were  seen  on  the  spot! 
You  say  they  came  in  a  machine  to  the  bank  — 
and  you  never  so  much  as  tried  to  trace  it,  or  to 
get  the  license  number  even,  I'll  bet  a  month's 
salary  you  didn't !  It  was  a  moving-picture  stall, 
and  so  you  come  blundering  out  here  to  the  only 
picture  company  in  the  country,  thinking,  by 
gravy,  that  it  was  all  straight  goods  —  oh,  can  you 
beat  that  for  a  boob  ?  "  He  shook  back  his  heavy 
mane  of  gray  hair  and  turned  to  his  boys  dis- 
gustedly. 

"  Pete  and  Tommy,  you  can  drive  the  wagon 
back  all  right,  can't  you  ?     We'll  go  on  ahead  and 
see  what  there  is  at  the  bottom  of  this  yarn." 
140 


CHAPTEK  X 

DEPUTIES   ALL 

AT  the  ranch,  whither  they  rode  in  haste, 
Luck  meant  to  leave  his  boys  and  go  on  with 
the  sheriff  to  town.  But  the  Happy  Family  flatly 
refused  to  be  left  behind.  Even  old  Aleck 
Douglas  —  whom  years  and  trouble  had  enfeebled 
until  his  very  presence  here  with  Jean  and  Lite 
was  a  health-seeking  mission  in  the  wonderful  air 
of  New  Mexico  —  even  old  Aleck  Douglas  stamped 
his  foot  at  Jean  and  declared  that  he  was  going 
along  to  see  that  "  the  boy  "  got  a  square  deal. 
There  wouldn't  be  any  railroading  Luck  to  the  pen 
for  something  he  didn't  do,  he  asserted  with  a 
tragic  meaning  that  wrung  the  heart  of  Jean.  It 
took  Lite's  arguments  and  Luck's  optimism  and, 
finally,  the  assurance  of  the  sheriff  that  Luck  was 
not  under  arrest  and  was  in  no  danger  of  it,  to  keep 
the  old  man  at  the  ranch.  Also,  they  promised  to 
141 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

return  with  all  speed  and  not  to  keep  supper  wait- 
ing, before  the  two  women  were  satisfied  to  let 
them  go. 

"  Oh,  Luck  Lindsay,"  Kosemary  bethought  her 
to  announce  just  as  they  were  leaving,  "  you  better 
keep  an  eye  out  for  Annie,  while  you're  in  town. 
She's  gone  —  and  the  dog  and  all  her  clothes  and 
everything.  Maybe  she  took  the  train  back  to  the 
reservation.  I  just  wanted  you  to  know,  so  if  you 
feel  you  ought  to  bother  — " 

"  Annie  gone  ?  "  Even  in  his  preoccupation  the 
news  came  with  a  stab.  "  When  did  she  go  ?  " 

"  We  don't  know.  She  set  up  an  awful  yowling 
when  you  boys  went  to  work.  And  the  dog  com- 
menced howling,  till  it  was  simply  awful.  So  we 
rode  in  to  town  after  the  mail,  and  when  we  came 
back  she  was  gone,  bag  and  baggage.  We  didn't 
see  anything  of  her  on  the  trail,  but  she  could  dodge 
us  if  she  wanted  to  —  she's  Injun  enough  for  that." 

So  Luck  carried  a  double  load  of  anxiety  with 
him  to  town,  and  the  first  thing  he  did  when  he 
reached  it  was  to  seek,  not  the  beaten  cashier  who 
had  accused  him,  but  the  ticket  agent  at  the  depot, 
and  the  baggage  men  —  anyone  who  would  be  apt 
142 


DEPUTIES  ALL 

to  remember  Annie-Many-Ponies  if  she  took  a 
train  out  of  town. 

You  might  think  that,  with  so  many  Indians 
coming  and  going  at  the  depot,  selling  their  wares 
and  making  picturesque  setting  for  the  curios 
which  are  purveyed  there,  that  Luck  stood  a  very 
slight  chance  of  gaining  any  information  whatever. 
But  a  Sioux  squaw  in  Albuquerque  would  be  as 
noticeable  as  a  Hindoo.  Pueblos,  l^avajos  —  they 
may  come  and  go  unnoticed  because  of  their  num- 
bers. But  an  Indian  of  another  tribe  and  style  of 
dress  would  be  conspicuous  enough  to  be  remem- 
bered. So,  when  no  one  remembered  seeing 
Annie-Many-Ponies,  Luck  dismissed  the  conjecture 
that  she  had  taken  the  train,  and  turned  his  at- 
tention to  picking  up  the  trail  of  the  bank-rob- 
bers. 

Here  the  Happy  Family,  with  Applehead  and 
Lite  Avery,  had  managed  to  accomplish  a  good  deal 
in  a  very  short  time.  The  Native  Son,  for  in- 
stance, had  ridden  straight  out  from  the  bank  into 
the  Mexican  quarter,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that 
the  red  automobile  had  gone  up  Silver  Street  and 
turned  south  on  Fourth.  By  the  time  Luck 
143 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

reached  the  bank  Miguel  came  loping  back  with 
the  news  that  the  red  machine  had  crossed  the 
lower  bridge  and  had  turned  up  toward  Atrisco, 
that  little  Mexican  hamlet  which  lies  between  the 
river  and  the  bluffs  where  the  white  sand  of  the 
desert  spills  over  into  the  nearest  corrals  and  little 
pastures. 

The  others  had  learned  definitely  that  Bill 
Holmes  had  manipulated  the  fake  camera  while 
the  bank  was  being  robbed,  and  that  the  man  with 
him,  who  had  also  driven  the  machine,  was  a  cer- 
tain chauffeur  of  colorless  personality  and  an  un- 
savory reputation  among  other  drivers;  and  that 
the  number  of  the  automobile  was  a  matter  of  con- 
jecture, since  three  different  men  who  were  posi- 
tive they  remembered  it  gave  three  different  num- 
bers. 

In  company  with  the  sheriff  they  called  upon 
the  cashier,  who  was  in  bed  with  his  head  bandaged 
and  his  nerves  very  much  unstrung.  He  was  much 
calmer,  however,  than  when  he  had  hysterically 
accused  Luck  of  betraying  him  into  putting  the 
money  out  to  be  stolen.  He  admitted  now  that  he 
was  not  at  all  sure  of  the  voice  which  talked  with 
144 


DEPUTIES  ALL 

him  over  the  phone;  indeed,  now  when  he  heard 
Luck  speak,  he  felt  extremely  doubtful  of  the  simi- 
larity of  that  other  voice.  He  protested  against 
being  blamed  for  being  too  confiding.  He  had 
never  dreamed,  he  said,  that  anyone  could  be  so 
bold  as  to  plan  a  thing  like  that.  It  all  sounded 
straight,  about  the  spoiled  negative  and  so  forth. 
He  was  very  sorry  that  he  had  caused  Luck  Lindsay 
any  inconvenience  or  annoyance,  and  he  begged 
Luck's  pardon  several  times  in  the  course  of  his 
explanation  of  the  details. 

They  left  him  still  protesting  and  apologizing 
and  explaining  and  touching  his  bandaged  head 
with  self-pitying  tenderness.  In  the  street  Luck 
turned  to  the  sheriff  as  though  his  mind  was  made 
up  to  something  which  argument  could  not  alter 
in  the  slightest  degree. 

"  I  realize  that  in  a  way  I'm  partly  responsible 
for  this,"  he  said  crisply.  "  The  scenes  I  took  the 
other  day  made  this  play  possible  for  Ramon  and 
his  bunch.  What  you'd  better  do  right  now  is  to 
swear  Applehead  and  me  in  as  deputies  —  and  any 
of  the  boys  that  want  to  come  along  and  help  round 
up  that  bunch.  We'll  do  it,  if  it's  to  be  done  at 
145 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

all.  I  feel  I  kind  of  owe  it  to  that  poor  simp  in 
there  to  get  the  money  back  —  sabe  ?  And  I  owe 
it  to  myself  to  bring  in  Eamon  and  Bill  Holmes, 
and  whoever  else  is  with  'em  on  this ;  young  Rojas 
we  know  is  for  one." 

"  Where  do  you  aim  to  look  for  'em,  if  you  don't 
mind  telling  ?  "  Hank  Miller  was  staring  doubt- 
fully down  at  Luck. 

"  Where  ?  Miguel  here  says  they  went  toward 
Atrisco.  That  means  they're  hitting  for  the 
Navajo  reservation.  There's  three  hundred  miles 
of  country  straight  west,  and  not  so  much  as  a 
telegraph  pole!  Mighty  few  service  stations  for 
the  machine,  too,  when  you  think  of  it  —  and 
rough  country  to  travel  over.  If  they  try  to  go  by 
automobile,  we'll  overhaul  them,  most  likely,  be- 
fore they  get  far.  Also,  we  can  trace  'em  easy 
enough." 

The  sheriff  pulled  at  his  stubby  mustache  and 
looked  the  bunch  over.  "  You  know  that  coun- 
try ?  "  he  asked,  still  doubtfully.  "  Them  Navvies 
are  plumb  snaky,  lemme  tell  yuh.  Ain't  like  the 
Pueblos  —  you're  taking  a  risk  when  yuh  ride  into 
the  Navvy  country.  They'll  get  yuh  if  they  get 
146 


DEPUTIES  ALL 

a  chancet ;  run  off  your  horses,  head  yuh  away  from 
water  —  they're  plumb  mean!" 

"  Well,  now,  I  calc'late  I  know  them  Navvies 
putty  tol'ble  well,"  Applehead  cut  in.  "  I've  fit 
'em  comin'  and  goin'.  Why,  my  shucks!  Ef  I 
notched  my  gun  for  the  Navvies  I've  got  off  an' 
on  in  the  course  uh  my  travels,  she'd  shore  look 
like  a  saw-blade,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

"  Yes,  an'  yuh  got  a  couple  too  many  fer  to  go 
monkeyin'  around  on  their  groun'  agin,"  the  sheriff 
informed  him  bluntly.  "  They  ain't  forgot  the 
trip  you  made  over  there  after  Jose  Martinez. 
Best  fer  you  to  keep  off'n  that  reservation,  Apple- 
head  —  and  I'm  speakin'  as  a  friend." 

"  As  a  friend  you  kin  shet  up,"  Applehead  re- 
torted pettishly.  "  Ef  Luck  hits  fer  the  Navvy 
country  after  them  skunks,  I  calc'late  ole  Apple- 
head'll  be  somers  close  handy  by  — " 

"  Hurry  up  and  swear  us  in,"  Luck  interrupted. 
"  We've  got  to  get  to  the  ranch  and  back  with  an 
outfit,  yet  tonight,  so  we  can  hit  the  trail  as  soon 
as  possible.  No  use  for  you  to  take  the  oath,  Andy 
—  what  you  better  do  is  to  stay  at  the  ranch  with 
the  women  folks." 

147 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Aleck  will  be  there,  and  Pete  and  Tommy  and 
the  cook,"  Andy  rebelled  instantly.  His  hand 
went  up  to  take  the  oath  with  the  others. 

There  on  the  corner  of  the  street  where  the 
shadows  lay  under  a  gently  whispering  box-elder 
tree,  Hank  Miller  faced  the  group  that  stood  with 
right  hands  uplifted  and  swore  them  as  he  had 
sworn  —  with  the  oath  that  made  deputy  sheriffs 
of  them  all.  He  told  them  that  while  he  did  not 
believe  the  thieves  had  gone  to  the  reservation,  and 
would  look  for  them  elsewhere,  the  idea  was  worth 
acting  upon  —  seeing  they  wanted  to  do  it  any- 
way; and  that  the  sheriff's  office  stood  ready  to 
assist  them  in  any  way  possible.  He  wished  them 
luck  and  hurried  away,  evidently  much  relieved  to 
get  away  and  out  of  an  uncomfortable  position. 

In  the  next  two  hours  Luck  managed  to  accom- 
plish a  good  deal,  which  was  one  of  the  reasons  why 
he  was  manager  and  director  of  the  Flying  U 
Feature  Films.  Just  for  example,  he  went  to  a 
friend  who  was  also  something  of  a  detective,  and 
put  him  on  the  job  of  find  Annie-Many-Ponies  — 
a  bigger  task  than  it  looked  to  Luck,  as  we  have 
occasion  to  know.  He  sent  some  of  the  boys  back 
148 


DEPUTIES  ALL 

to  the  ranch  in  a  machine,  and  told  them  just  what 
to  bring  back  with  them  in  the  way  of  rifles,  bed- 
ding rolls,  extra  horses  and  so  on.  The  horses  they 
had  ridden  into  town  he  had  housed  in  a  livery 
stable.  He  took  the  Native  Son  and  a  Mexican 
driver  and  went  over  to  Atrisco,  routed  perfectly 
polite  and  terribly  sleepy  individuals  out  of  their 
beds  and  learned  beyond  all  question  that  a  red 
automobile  with  several  men  in  it  had  passed 
through  the  dusty  lanes  and  had  labored  up  the 
hill  to  the  desert  mesa  beyond  and  that  no  one  had 
seen  it  return. 

He  sent  a  hundred-and-fif ty-word  message  to 
Dewitt  of  the  Great  Western  Company  in  Los 
Angeles,  explaining  with  perfect  frankness  the 
situation  and  his  determination  to  get  out  after  the 
robbers,  and  made  it  plain  also  that  he  would  not 
expect  salary  for  the  time  he  spent  in  the  chase. 
He  ended  by  saying  tersely,  "  My  reputation  and 
standing  of  company  here  at  stake,"  and  signed  his 
name  in  a  hasty  scrawl  that  made  the  operator 
scratch  his  ear  reflectively  with  his  pencil  when  he 
had  counted  the  words  down  to  the  signature. 

After  that,  Luck  gave  every  ounce  of  his  energy 
149 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

and  every  bit  of  his  brain  to  the  outfitting  of  the 
expedition. 

So  well  did  he  accomplish  the  task  that  by  one 
o'clock  that  night  a  low-voiced  company  of  men 
rode  away  from  a  livery  stable  in  the  heart  of  the 
town,  leading  four  pack-horses  and  heading  as 
straight  as  might  be  for  the  bridge.  They  met  no 
one;  they  saw  scarcely  a  light  in  any  of  the  win- 
dows that  they  passed.  A  chill  wind  crept  up  the 
river  so  that  they  buttoned  their  coats  when  the 
hoofbeats  of  the  horses  sounded  hollow  on  the 
bridge.  Out  through  the  lane  that  leads  to 
Atrisco,  which  slept  in  the  stolid  blackness  of  low 
adobe  houses  with  flat  roofs  and  tiny  windows, 
they  rode  at  a  trot.  Dogs  barked,  ran  out  to  the 
road  and  barked  again,  ran  back  to  the  adobe  huts 
and  kept  on  barking.  In  one  field  some  loose 
horses,  seeing  so  many  of  their  kind  in  the  lane, 
galloped  up  to  the  fence  and  stood  there  snorting. 
These  were  still  in  their  colthood,  however,  and  the 
saddle-horses  merely  flicked  ears  in  their  direction 
and  gave  them  no  more  heed. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  sure  of  the  country,  up  here 
on  top,"  Luck  said  to  Applehead  when  they  had 
150 


DEPUTIES  ALL 

climbed,  by  the  twisting,  sandy  trail,  to  the  sand 
dunes  that  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  mesa  and 
stretched  vaguely  away  under  the  stars.  To  the 
rim-rock  line  that  separated  this  first  mesa  from 
the  higher  one  beyond,  Luck  himself  knew  the 
sand-hills  well.  But  beyond  the  broken  line  of 
hills  off  to  the  northwest  he  had  never  gone  —  and 
there  lay  the  territory  that  belongs  to  the  Navajos, 
who  are  a  tricky  tribe  and  do  not  love  the  white 
people  who  buy  their  rugs  and  blankets  and,  so 
claim  the  Navajos,  steal  their  cattle  and  their 
horses  as  well. 

At  the  rim  of  lava  rock  they  made  a  dry  camp 
and  lay  down  in  what  comfort  they  could  achieve, 
to  doze  and  wait  for  daylight  so  that  they  could 
pick  up  the  trail  of  the  red  automobile. 


151 


CHAPTEK  XI 


OVER  his  second  cup  of  coffee  the  pale  eyes  of 
Big  Medicine  goggled  thoughtfully  at  the 
forbidding  wall  of  lava  rock  that  stretched  before 
them  as  far  as  he  could  see  to  left  or  right.  There 
were  places  here  and  there  where  he  believed  that 
a  man  could  climb  to  the  top  with  the  aid  of  his 
hands  as  well  as  his  feet,  but  for  the  horses  he  was 
extremely  skeptical;  and  as  for  a  certain  big  red 
automobile.  .  .  .  His  eyes  swung  from  the  brown 
rampart  and  rested  grievedly  upon  the  impassive 
face  of  Luck,  who  was  just  then  reaching  forward 
to  spear  another  slice  of  bacon  from  the  frying  pan. 
"  Kinda  looks  to  me,  by  cripes,  as  if  we'd  come 
to  the  end  uh  the  trail,"  he  observed  in  his  usual 
full-lunged  bellow,  as  though  he  had  all  his  life 
been  accustomed  to  pitching  his  voice  above  some 
Unending  clamor.  "  Yuh  got  any  idee  of  how  an 
autywobile  dumb  that  there  rim-rock  ? " 
152 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

Old  Applehead,  squatting  on  his  heels  across  the 
little  camp-fire,  leaned  and  picked  a  coal  out  of 
the  ashes  for  his  pipe  and  afterwards  cocked  his 
eyes  toward  Big  Medicine. 

"  What  yuh  calc'late  yuh  tryin'  to  do  ? "  he  in- 
quired pettishly.  "  Start  up  an  argyment  uh 
some  kind  ?  Cause  if  ye  air,  lemme  tell  yuh  I  got 
the  yer-ache  from  listenin'  to  you  las'  night." 

Big  Medicine  looked  at  him  as  though  he  was 
going  to  spring  upon  him  in  deadly  combat  —  but 
that  was  only  a  peculiar  facial  trick  of  his.  What 
he  did  do  was  to  pour  that  last  swallow  of  hot, 
black  coffee  down  his  throat  and  then  laugh  his  big 
haw-haw-haw  that  could  be  heard  half  a  mile  off. 

"  Y'  oughta  kep  Applehead  to  home  with  the 
wimmin  folks,  Luck,"  he  bawled  unabashed. 
"  Night  air's  bad  fer  'im,  and  the  trail  ain't  goin' 
to  be  smooth  goin', —  not  if  we  gotta  ride  our 
hawses  straight  up,  by  cripes !  " 

"  We  haven't  got  to."  Luck  balanced  his  slice 
of  bacon  upon  the  unscorched  side  of  a  bannock  and 
glanced  indifferently  at  the  rim  of  rock  that  was 
worrying  the  other.  "  I  swung  down  here  to  make 
camp  off  the  trail.  But  it's  only  a  half  mile  or  so 
153 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

over  this  rise  that  looks  level  to  you,  to  where  the 
lava  ledge  peters  out  so  we  can  ride  over  it  easier 
than  we  rode  up  off  the  river-flat  in  that  loose  sand. 
That  ease  your  mind  any  ?  " 

"  Helps  some,"  Big  Medicine  admitted,  his  eyes 
going  speculatively  to  the  rise  that  looked  perfectly 
level.  "  I'm  will  in'  to  take  your  word  fer  it,  boss. 
But  what's  gittin'  to  worry  me,  by  cripes,  is  all 
this  here  war-talk  about  Injuns.  Honest  to 
grandma,  I  feel  like  as  if  I'd  been  readiii' — " 

"  Aw,  it's  jest  a  josh,  Bad !  "  Happy  Jack  as- 
serted boredly.  "  I  betche  there  ain't  been  a  In- 
jun on  the  fight  here  sence  hell  was  a  tradin' 
post!" 

"  You  think  there  hasn't  ? "  Luck  looked  up 
quickly  to  ask.  But  old  Applehead  rose  up  and 
shook  an  indignant  finger  at  Happy  Jack. 

"  There  ain't,  hey  ?  Well,  I  calc'late  that  fer 
a  josh,  them  thar  Navvies  has  got  a  right  keen 
sense  uh  humor,  and  I've  knowed  men  to  laff  their- 
selves  to  death  on  their  danged  resavation  —  now 
I'm  tellin'  yuh!  It  was  all  a  josh  mebby,  when 
they  riz  up  a  year  or  two  back  'cause  one  uh  their 
tribe  was  goin'  t'  be  arrested  er  some  darn  thing! 
154 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

Ole  General  Scott,  he  didn't  call  it  no  joke  when  he 
went  in  thar  to  settle  'em  down,  did  he  ?  I  calc'late 
mebby  it  was  jest  fer  a  josh  them  troops  waited 
on  the  aidge,  ready  to  go  in  if  he  didn't  git  back  a 
certain  time !  'N'  that  wasn't  so  fur  back,  shorely 
—  only  two  years.  Why  dang  your  fool  heart, 
I've  laid  out  there  in  them  hills  myself  and  fit  off 
the  Navvies — 'n'  I  didn't  see  nothin'  much  to 
laugh  at,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  Time  I  went  there 
after  Jose  Martinez  — " 

"  Better  get  under  way,  boys,"  Luck  inter- 
rupted, having  heard  many  times  the  details  of  that 
fight  and  capture.  "  We'll  throw  out  a  circle  and 
pick  up  the  trail  of  that  machine,  or  whatever 
they  made  their  getaway  in.  My  idea  is  that  they 
must  have  stached  some  horses  out  here  somewhere. 
I  don't  believe  they'd  take  the  risk  of  trying  to  get 
away  in  a  machine;  that  would  hold  them  to  the 
main  trails,  mostly.  I  know  it  wouldn't  be  my 
way  of  getting  outa  reach.  I'd  want  horses  so  I 
could  get  into  rough  country,  and  I've  doped  it  out 
that  Ramon  is  too  trail-wise  to  bank  very  high  on 
an  automobile  once  he  got  out  away  from  town. 
Applehead,  you  and  Lite  and  Pink  and  Weary 
155 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

form  one  party  if  it  comes  to  where  we  want  to 
divide  forces.  Pack  a  complete  camp  outfit  on 
the  sorrel  and  the  black  —  you  notice  that's  the 
way  I  had  'em  packed  first.  Keep  their  packs  just 
as  we  started  out,  then  you'll  be  ready  to  strike 
out  by  yourselves  whenever  it  seems  best.  Get 
me?" 

"  We  get  you,  boss,"  Weary  sang  out  cheerfully, 
and  went  to  work  gathering  up  the  breakfast  things 
and  putting  them  into  two  little  piles  for  the  packs. 
Pink  led  up  the  black  and  the  sorrel,  and  helped 
to  pack  them  with  bedding  and  supplies  for  four, 
as  Luck  had  ordered,  while  Lite  and  Applehead 
saddled  their  horses  and  then  came  up  to  help 
throw  the  diamond  hitches  on  the  packs. 

A  couple  of  rods  nearer  the  rock  wall  Happy 
Jack  was  grumbling,  across  the  canvas  pack  of  a 
little  bay,  at  Big  Medicine,  who  was  warning  him 
against  leaving  his  hair  so  long  as  a  direct  tempta- 
tion to  scalp-lifting.  Luck  had  already  mounted 
and  ridden  out  a  little  way,  where  he  could  view 
the  country  behind  them  with  his  field  glasses,  to 
make  sure  that  in  the  darkness  they  had  not  passed 
by  anything  that  deserved  a  closer  inspection.  He 
156 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

came  back  at  a  lope  and  motioned  to  Andy  and 
the  Native  Son. 

"  That  red  automobile  is  standing  back  about 
half  a  mile,"  he  announced  hurriedly.  "  Empty 
and  deserted,  looks  like.  We'll  go  back  and  take 
a  look  at  it.  The  rest  of  you  can  finish  packing 
and  wait  here  till  we  come  back.  No  use  making 
extra  travel  for  your  horses.  They'll  get  all  they 
need,  the  chances  are." 

The  red  automobile  was  empty  of  everything 
but  the  upholstering  and  a  jack  in  the  toolbox. 
The  state  license  number  was  gone,  and  the  serial 
number  on  the  engine  had  been  hammered  into 
illegibility.  What  tracks  there  were  had  been 
blown  nearly  full  of  the  white  sand  of  that  par- 
ticular locality.  There  was  nothing  to  be  learned 
there,  except  the  very  patent  fact  that  the  machine 
had  been  abandoned  for  some  reason.  Luck  took 
a  look  at  the  engine  and  saw  nothing  wrong  with 
it.  There  was  oil  and  there  was  "  gas  " —  a  whole 
tank  full.  Andy  and  Miguel,  riding  an  ever- 
widening  circle  around  the  machine  while  Luck 
was  looking  for  evidence  of  a  breakdown,  ran 
across  a  lot  of  hoofprints  that  seemed  to  head 
157 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

straight  away  past  the  rim-rock  and  on  to  the 
hills. 

They  picked  up  the  trail  of  the  hoofprints  and 
followed  it.  When  they  returned  to  the  others 
they  found  the  boys  all  mounted  and  waiting  im- 
patiently like  hounds  on  the  leash  eager  to  get 
away  on  the  chase.  Six  horses  there  were,  and 
even  old  Applehead,  who  was  in  a  bad  humor  that 
morning  and  seemed  to  hate  agreeing  with  anyone, 
admitted  that  probably  the  four  who  had  committed 
the  robbery  and  left  town  in  the  machine  had  been 
met  out  here  by  a  man  who  brought  horses  for  them 
and  one  extra  pack  horse.  This  explained  the 
number  in  the  most  plausible  manner,  and  satisfied 
everyone  that  they  were  on  the  right  trail. 

Riding  together  —  since  they  were  on  a  plain 
trail  and  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  separat- 
ing—  they  climbed  to  the  higher  mesa,  crossed 
the  ridge  of  the  three  barren  hills  that  none  of 
them  but  Applehead  had  ever  passed,  and  went  on 
and  on  and  on  as  the  hoofprints  led  them,  straight 
toward  the  reservation. 

They  discussed  the  robbery  from  every  angle 
they  could  think  of,  and  once  or  twice  someone  haz- 
158 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

arded  a  guess  at  Annie-Many-Ponies'  reason  for 
leaving  and  her  probable  destination.  They  won- 
dered how  old  Dave  Wiswell,  the  dried  little  cattle- 
man of  The  Phantom  Herd,  was  making  out  in 
Denver,  where  he  had  gone  to  consult  a  specialist 
about  some  kidney  trouble  that  had  interfered  with 
his  riding  all  spring.  Weary  suggested  that  maybe 
Annie-Many-Ponies  had  taken  a  notion  to  go  and 
visit  old  Dave,  since  the  two  were  old  friends. 

It  was  here  that  Applehead  unwittingly  put  into 
words  the  vague  suspicion  which  Luck  had  been 
trying  to  stifle  and  had  not  yet  faced  as  a  definite 
idea. 

"  I  calc'late  we'll  likely  find  that  thar  squaw 
putty  tol'ble  close  to  whar  we  find  Bill  Holmes," 
Applehead  remarked  sourly.  "  Her  goin'  off  same 
day  they  stuck  up  that  bank  don't  look  to  me  like 
no  happenstance  —  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh!  }W  if 
I  was  shurf,  and  was  ast  to  locate  that  squaw,  I'd 
keep  right  on  the  trail  uh  Bill  Holmes,  jest  as  we're 
doin'  now." 

"  That  isn't  like  Annie,"  Luck  said  sharply  to 
still  the  conviction  in  his  own  mind.  "  Whatever 
faults  she  may  have,  she's  been  loyal  to  me,  and 
159 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

honest.  Look  how  she  stuck  last  winter,  when  she 
didn't  have  anything  at  stake,  wasn't  getting  any 
salary,  and  yet  worked  like  a  dog  to  help  make  the 
picture  a  success.  Look  how  she  got  up  in  the 
night  when  the  blizzard  struck,  and  fed  our  horses 
and  cooked  breakfast  of  her  own  accord,  just  so  I 
could  get  out  early  and  get  my  scenes.  I've  known 
her  since  she  was  a  dirty-faced  papoose,  and  I 
never  knew  her  to  lie  or  steal.  She  wasn't  in  on 
that  robbery  —  I'll  bank  on  that,  and  she  wouldn't 
go  off  with  a  thief.  It  isn't  like  Annie." 

"  Well,"  said  Big  Medicine,  thinking  of  his  own 
past,  "  the  best  uh  women  goes  wrong  when  some 
knot-headed  man  gits  to  lovemakin'.  They'll  do 
things  fer  the  wrong  kinda  man,  by  cripes,  that 
they  wouldn't  do  fer  no  other  human  on  earth. 
I've  knowed  a  good  woman  to  lie  and  steal  —  fer 
a  man  that  wasn't  fit,  by  cripes,  to  tip  his  hat  to 
'er  in  the  street!  Women,"  he  added  pessimisti- 
cally, "  is  something  yuh  can't  bank  on,  as  safe  as 
yuh  can  on  a  locoed  horse !  "  He  kicked  his  mount 
unnecessarily  by  way  of  easing  the  resentment 
which  one  woman  had  managed  to  instil  against 
the  sex  in  general. 

160 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

"  That's  where  you're  darned  right,  Bud,"  Pink 
attested  with  a  sudden  bitterness  which  memory 
brought.  "  I  wouldn't  trust  the  best  woman  that 
ever  lived  outa  my  sight,  when  you  come  right 
down  to  cases." 

"  Aw,  here !  "  Andy  Green,  thinking  loyally 
of  his  Rosemary,  swung  his  horse  indignantly 
toward  the  two.  "  Cut  that  out,  both  of  you ! 
Just  because  you  two  got  stung,  is  no  reason  why 
you've  got  to  run  down  all  the  rest  of  the  women. 
I  happen  to  know  one  — " 

"  Aw,  nobody  was  talking  about  Rosemary,"  Big 
Medicine  apologized  gruffly.  "  She's  different ; 
any  fool  knows  that." 

"  Well,  I've  got  a  six-gun  here  that'll  talk  for 
another  one,"  silent  Lite  Avery  spoke  up  suddenly. 
"  One  that  would  tip  the  scales  on  the  woman's 
side  for  goodness  if  the  rest  of  the  whole  sex  was 
bad." 

"  Oh,  thunder !  "  Pink  cried,  somewhat  redder 
than  the  climbing  sun  alone  would  warrant.  "  I'll 
take  it  back.  I  didn't  mean  them  —  you  know 
darned  well  I  didn't  mean  them  —  nor  lots  of  other 
women  I  know.  What  I  meant  was  — " 
161 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  What  you  meant  was  Annie,"  Luck  broke  in 
uncompromisingly.  "  And  I'm  not  condemning 
her  just  because  things  look  black.  You  don't 
know  Indians  the  way  I  know  them.  There's  some 
things  an  Indian  will  do,  and  then  again  there's 
some  things  they  won't  do.  You  boys  don't  know 
it  —  but  yesterday  morning  when  we  left  the  ranch, 
Annie-Many-Ponies  made  me  the  peace-sign.  And 
after  that  she  went  into  her  tent  and  began  to  sing 
the  Omaha.  It  didn't  mean  anything  to  you  — 
Old  Dave  is  the  only  one  that  would  have  sabed, 
and  he  wasn't  there.  But  it  meant  enough  to  me 
that  I  came  pretty  near  riding  back  to  have  a  pow- 
wow with  Annie,  even  if  we  were  late.  I  wish 
I  had.  I'd  have  less  on  my  conscience  right 
now." 

"  Fur's  I  kin  see,"  Applehead  dissented  impa- 
tiently, "  you  ain't  got  no  call  to  have  nothin'  on 
your  conscience  where  that  thar  squaw  is  concerned. 
You  treated  her  a  hull  lot  whiter'n  what  she  de- 
served—  now  I'm  tellin'  ye!  *W  her  traipsin' 
around  at  nights  'n' — " 

"  I  tell  you,  you  don't  know  Indians !  "  Luck 
swung  round  in  the  saddle  so  that  he  could  face 
162 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

Applehead.  "  You  don't  know  the  Sioux,  anyway. 
She  wouldn't  have  made  me  that  peace-sign  if  she'd 
been  double-crossing  me,  I  tell  you.  And  she 
wouldn't  have  sung  the  Omaha  if  she  was  going 
to  throw  in  with  a  thief  that  was  trying  to  lay  me 
wide  open  to  suspicion.  I've  been  studying  things 
over  in  my  mind,  and  there's  something  in  this 
affair  I  can't  sabe.  And  until  you've  got  some 
proof,  the  less  you  say  about  Annie-Many-Ponies 
the  better  I'll  be  pleased." 

That,  coming  from  Luck  in  just  that  tone  and 
with  just  that  look  in  his  eyes,  was  tantamount  to 
an  ultimatum,  and  it  was  received  as  one.  Old 
Applehead  grunted  and  chewed  upon  a  wisp  of 
his  sunburned  mustache  that  looked  like  dried 
cornsilk  after  a  frost.  The  Happy  Family  ex- 
changed careful  glances  and  rode  meekly  along  in 
silence.  There  was  not  a  man  of  them  but  be- 
lieved that  Applehead  was  nearer  right  than  Luck, 
but  they  were  not  so  foolish  as  to  express  that  be- 
lief. 

After  a  while  Big  Medicine  began  bellowing 
tunelessly  that  old  ditty,  once  popular  but  now 
half  forgotten: 

163 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Nava,  Nava,  My  Navaho-o  — 

I  have  a  love  for  you  that  will  grow-ow!  " 

Which  stirred  old  Applehead  to  an  irritated  mono- 
logue upon  the  theme  of  certain  persons  whose 
ignorance  is  not  blissful,  but  trouble-inviting. 
Applehead,  it  would  seem  from  his  speech  upon  the 
subject,  would  be  a  much  surprised  ex-sheriff  — 
now  a  deputy  —  if  they  were  not  all  captured  and 
scalped,  if  not  worse,  the  minute  their  feet  touched 
the  forbidden  soil  of  these  demons  in  human  form, 
the  Navajo  Indians. 

"  If  they  were  not  too  busy  weaving  blankets 
for  Fred  Harvey,"  Luck  qualified  with  his  soft 
Texan  drawl  and  the  smile  that  went  with  it. 
"  You  talk  as  if  these  boys  were  tourists." 

"Yes,"  added  Andy  Green  maliciously,  "here 
comes  a  war-party  now,  boys.  Duck  behind  a 
rock,  Applehead,  they're  liable  to  charge  yuh  — 
f  er  them  blankets !  " 

The  Happy  Family  laughed  uproariously,  to  the 
evident  bewilderment  of  the  two  Indians  who, 
swathed  in  blankets  and  with  their  hair  knotted 
and  tied  with  a  green  ribbon  and  a  yellow,  drove 
leisurely  toward  the  group  in  an  old  wagon  that 
164 


WAR-TALK  ABOUT  INJUNS 

had  a  bright  new  seat  and  was  drawn  by  a  wea- 
zened span  of  mangy-looking  bay  ponies.  In  the 
back  of  the  wagon  sat  a  young  squaw  and  two 
papooses,  and  beside  them  were  stacked  three  or 
four  of  the  gay,  handwoven  rugs  for  which  the 
white  people  will  pay  many  dollars. 

"Buenas  dias,"  said  the  driver  of  the  wagon, 
who  was  an  oldish  Indian  with  a  true  picture- 
postal  face.  And :  "  Hello,"  said  the  other,  who 
was  young  and  wore  a  bright  blue  coat,  such  as 
young  Mexicans  affect. 

"  Hello,  folks,"  cried  the  Happy  Family 
genially,  and  lifted  their  hats  to  the  good-looking 
young  squaw  in  the  wagon-bed,  who  tittered  in 
bashful  appreciation  of  the  attention. 

"Mama!  They  sure  are  wild  and  warlike," 
Weary  commented  drily  as  he  turned  to  stare 
after  the  wagon. 

"  Us  little  deputies  had  better  run  home,"  Pink 
added  with  mock  alarm. 

"  By  cripes,  I  know  now  what  went  with  Apple- 
head's  hair !  "  bawled  Big  Medicine.  "  Chances 
is,  it's  weaved  into  that  red  blanket  the  old  buck 


165 


"  Laff,  dang  ye,  laff!"  Applehead  cried  furi- 
ously. "  But  do  your  laffing  where  I  can't  hear 
ye,  fer  I'm  tellin'  ye  right  now  I've  had  enough 
of  yore  dang  foolishness.  And  the  next  feller 
that  makes  a  crack  is  goin'  to  wisht  he  hadn't  — 
now  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 

This  was  not  so  much  an  ultimatum  as  a  declara- 
tion of  war  —  and  the  Happy  Family  suddenly 
found  themselves  all  out  of  the  notion  of  laughing 
at  anything  at  all. 


166 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    WIUMJOOSE    CHASE 

BECAUSE  they  had  no  human  means  of 
knowing  anything  about  the  black  automo- 
bile that  had  whirled  across  the  mesa  to  the  south- 
east and  left  its  mysterious  passengers  in  one  of 
the  arroyos  that  leads  into  the  Sandias  Mountains 
near  Coyote  Springs,  nine  cowpuncher  deputy- 
sheriffs  bored  their  way  steadily  through  sun  and 
wind  and  thirst,  traveling  due  northwest,  keeping 
always  on  the  trail  of  the  six  horses  that  traveled 
steadily  before  them.  Always  a  day's  march  be- 
hind, always  watching  hopefully  for  some  sign  of 
delay  —  for  an  encouraging  freshness  in  the  tracks 
that  would  show  a  lessening  distance  between  the 
two  parties,  Luck  and  his  Happy  Family  rode 
from  dawn  till  dusk,  from  another  dawn  to  an- 
other dusk.  Their  horses,  full  of  little  exuberant 
outbursts  of  horse-foolishness  when  they  had  left 
town,  Bettled  down  to  a  dogged,  plodding  half 
167 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

walk,  half  trot  which  is  variously  described  upon 
the  range;  Luck,  for  instance,  calling  it  poco-poco; 
while  the  Happy  Family  termed  it  running-walk, 
trail-trot,  fox-trot  —  whatever  came  easiest  to  their 
tongues  at  the  time.  Call  it  what  they  pleased, 
the  horses  came  to  a  point  where  they  took  the  gait 
mechanically  whenever  the  country  was  decently 
level.  They  forgot  to  shy  at  strange  objects,  and 
they  never  danced  away  from  a  foot  lifted  to  the 
stirrup  when  the  sky  was  flaunting  gorgeous  ban- 
ners to  herald  the  coming  of  the  sun.  More  than 
once  they  were  thankful  to  have  the  dust  washed 
from  their  nostrils  and  to  let  that  pass  for  a  drink. 
For  water  holes  were  few  and  far  between  when 
they  struck  that  wide,  barren  land  ridged  here  and 
there  with  hills  of  rock. 

Twice  the  trail  of  the  six  horses  was  lost,  be- 
cause herds  of  cattle  had  passed  between  those  who 
rode  in  haste  before,  and  those  who  followed  in 
haste  a  day's  ride  behind.  They  saw  riders  in 
the  distance  nearly  every  day,  but  only  occasionally 
did  any  Indians  come  within  speaking  distance. 
These  were  mostly  headed  townward  in  wagons  and 
rickety  old  buggies,  with  the  men  riding  digni- 
168 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

fiedly  on  the  spring  seat  and  the  squaws  and  pa- 
pooses sitting  flat  in  the  bottom  behind.  These 
family  parties  became  more  and  more  inclined  to 
turn  and  stare  after  the  Happy  Family,  as  if 
they  were  puzzling  over  the  errand  that  would  take 
nine  men  riding  close-grouped  across  the  desert, 
with  four  pack-horses  to  proclaim  the  journey  a 
long  one. 

When  the  trail  swung  sharply  away  from  the 
dim  wagon  road  and  into  the  northwest  where  the 
land  lay  parched  and  pitiless  under  the  hot  sun, 
the  Happy  Family  hitched  their  gun-belts  into 
place,  saw  to  it  that  their  canteens  were  brimming 
with  the  water  that  was  so  precious,  and  turned 
doggedly  that  way,  following  the  lead  of  Apple- 
head,  who  knew  the  country  fairly  well,  and  of 
Luck,  who  did  not  know  the  country,  but  who 
knew  that  he  meant  to  overhaul  Ramon  Chavez 
and  Bill  Holmes,  go  where  they  would,  and  take 
i  them  back  to  jail.  If  they  could  ride  across  this 
barren  stretch,  said  Luck  to  Applehead,  he  and 
his  bunch  could  certainly  follow  them. 

"  Well,  this  is  kinda  takin'  chances,"  Apple- 
head  observed  soberly,  "  unless  Ramon,  he  knows 
169 


whar's  the  water-holes.  If  he  does  hit  water  reg- 
ular, I  calc'late  we  kin  purty  nigh  foller  his  lead. 
They'd  things  I  don't  like  about  the  way  this  here 
trail  is  leading  out  this  way,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh ! 
Way  we're  goin',  we'll  be  in  the  Seven  Lakes  coun- 
try 'fore  we  know  it.  Looks  to  me  like  them 
greasers  must  stand  in  purty  well  with  the  Nav- 
vies — V  if  they  do,  it'll  be  dang  hard  pullin'  to 
git  'em  away  'n'  outa  here.  'W  if  they  don't 
stand  in,  they'd  oughta  bore  more  west  than  what 
they're  doin'.  Looks  dang  queer  to  me,  now  I'm 
tellin' ye!" 

"  "Well,  all  I  want  is  to  overtake  them.  We'll 
do  it,  too.  The  little  grain  these  horses  get  is 
showing  its  worth  right  now,"  Luck  cheered  him. 
"  They're  keeping  up  better  than  I  was  afraid  they 
would.  We've  got  that  advantage  —  a  Mexican 
don't  as  a  rule  grain  his  horses,  and  the  chances 
are  that  Ramon  thought  more  about  the  gold  than 
he  did  about  carrying  horse-feed.  We  can  hold 
on  longer  than  he  can,  Applehead." 

"We  can't  either,"  Applehead  disputed,  "be- 
cause if  Ramon  takes  a  notion  he'll  steal  fresh 
horses  from  the  Injuns." 
170 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

"  I  thought  you  said  he  stood  in  with  the  In- 
juns," Weary  spoke  up  from  the  ambling  group 
behind.  "You're  kinda  talkin'  in  circles,  ain't 
you,  Applehead  ? " 

"  Well,  I  calc'late  yuh  jest  about  got  to  talk  in 
circles  to  git  anywheres  near  Ramon,"  Applehead 
retorted,  looking  back  at  the  others.  "  They's  so 
dang  many  things  he  might  be  aimin'  to  do,  that  I 
ain't  been  right  easy  in  my  mind  the  last  day  or 
two,  and  I'm  tellin'  ye  so.  'S  like  a  storm  —  I 
kin  smell  trouble  two  days  off;  that's  mebby  why 
I'm  still  alive  an'  able  to  fork  a  hoss.  An'  I'm 
tellin'  you  right  now,  I  kin  smell  trouble  stronger'n 
a  polecat  under  the  chicken-house !  " 

"  Well,  by  cripes,  let  'er  come !  "  Big  Medicine 
roared  cheerfully,  inspecting  a  battered  plug  of 
"  chewin' "  to  see  where  was  the  most  inviting 
corner  in  which  to  set  his  teeth.  "  MeV  trouble 
has  locked  horns  more'n  once,  ?n'  I'd  feel  right 
lonesome  if  I  thought  our  trails'd  never  cross  agin. 
Why,  down  in  Coconino  County  — "  He  went  off 
into  a  long  recital  of  certain  extremely  bloody 
chapters  in  the  history  of  that  famed  county  as 
chronicled  by  one  Bud  Welch,  otherwise  known  as 
171 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

Big  Medicine  —  and  not  because  of  his  modesty, 
you  may  be  sure. 

Noon,  of  that  day  found  them  plodding  across 
a  high,  barren  mesa  under  a  burning  sun.  Since 
red  dawn  they  had  been  riding,  and  the  horses 
showed  their  need  of  water.  They  lagged  often 
into  a  heavy-footed  walk  and  their  ears  drooped 
dispiritedly.  Even  Big  Medicine  found  nothing 
cheerful  to  say.  Luck  went  out  of  his  way  to 
gain  the  top  of  every  little  rise,  and  to  scan  the 
surrounding  country  through  his  field  glasses. 
The  last  time  he  came  sliding  down  to  the  others 
his  face  was  not  so  heavy  with  anxiety  and  his 
voice  when  he  spoke  had  a  new  briskness. 

"  There's  a  ranch  of  some  kind  straight  ahead 
about  two  miles,"  he  announced.  "  I  could  see 
a  green  patch,  so  there  must  be  water  around  there 
somewhere.  We'll  make  noon  camp  there,  and 
maybe  we  can  dig  up  a  little  information.  Ramon 
must  have  stopped  there  for  water,  and  we'll  find 
out  just  how  far  we  are  behind." 

The  ranch,  when  they  finally  neared  it,  proved 
to  be  a  huddle  of  low,  octagon-shaped  huts  (called 
hogans)  made  of  short  cedar  logs  and  plastered 
172 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

over  with  adobe,  with  a  hole  in  the  center  of  the 
lid-like  roof  to  let  the  smoke  out  and  a  little  light 
in ;  and  dogs,  that  ran  out  and  barked  and  yelped 
and  trailed  into  mourning  rumbles  and  then  barked 
again;  and  half -naked  papooses  that  scurried  like 
rabbits  for  shelter  when  they  rode  up;  and  two 
dingy,  shapeless  squaws  that  disappeared  within 
a  hogan  and  peered  out  at  one  side  of  the  blanket 
door. 

Luck  started  to  dismount  and  make  some  at- 
tempt at  a  polite  request  for  water,  and  for  in- 
formation as  well,  but  Applehead  objected  and 
finally  had  his  way. 

If  the  squaws  could  speak  English,  he  argued, 
they  would  lie  unless  they  refused  to  talk  at  all. 
As  to  the  water,  if  there  was  any  around  the  place 
the  bunch  could  find  it  and  help  themselves. 
"  These  yer  Navvies  ain't  yore  Buffalo-Bill 
Sioux,"  he  pointed  out  to  Luck.  "  Yuh  can't 
treat  'em  the  same.  The  best  we  kin  look  fer  is 
to  be  left  alone  — •  an'  I'm  tellin'  ye  straight." 

Luck  gave  the  squalid  huts  a  long  stare  and 
turned  away  toward  the  corral  and  a  low  shed  that 
served  as  a  stable.     A  rusty  old  mower  and  a 
173 


THE  HERITAGE  OF.  .THE  SIOUX 

toothless  rake  and  a  rickety  blackboard  stood  bak- 
ing in  the  sun,  and  a  few  stunted  hens  fluttered 
away  from  their  approach.  In  the  corral  a  mangy 
pony  blinked  in  dejected  slumber;  and  all  the 
while  the  three  dogs  followed  them  and  barked 
and  yapped  and  growled,  until  Pink  turned  in  the 
saddle  with  the  plain  intention  of  stopping  the 
clamor  with  a  bullet  or  two. 

"  Ye  better  let  'em  alone !  "  Applehead  warned 
sharply,  and  Pink  put  up  his  gun  unfired  and  took 
down  his  rope. 

"  The  darned  things  are  getting  on  my  nerves !  " 
he  complained,  and  wheeled  suddenly  in  pursuit 
of  the  meanest4ooking  dog  of  the  three.  "  I 
can  stand  a  decent  dog  barking  at  me,  but  so 
help  me  Josephine,  I  draw  the  line  at  Injun 
curs!" 

The  dog  ran  yelping  toward  the  hogans  with 
Pink  hard  at  its  heels  swinging  his  loop  men- 
acingly. When  the  dog,  with  a  last  hysterical 
yelp,  suddenly  flattened  its  body  and  wriggled  un- 
der a  corner  of  the  shed,  Pink  turned  and  rode 
after  the  others,  who  had  passed  the  corral  and 
were  heading  for  the  upper  end  of  a  small  patch 
174 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

of  green  stuff  that  looked  like  a  half-hearted  at- 
tempt at  a  vegetable  garden.  As  he  passed  the 
shed  an  Indian  in  dirty  overalls  and  gingham  shirt 
craned  his  neck  around  the  doorway  and  watched 
him  malevolently;  hut  Pink,  sighting  the  green 
patch  and  remembering  their  dire  need  of  water, 
was  kicking  his  horse  into  a  trot  and  never  once 
thought  to  cast  an  eye  over  his  shoulder. 

In  that  arid  land,  where  was  green  vegetation 
you  may  be  sure  there  was  water  also.  And  pres- 
ently the  nine  were  distributed  along  a  rod  or  two 
of  irrigating  ditch,  thankfully  watching  the  swal- 
lows of  water  go  sliding  hurriedly  down  the  out- 
stretched gullets  of  their  horses  that  leaned  for- 
ward with  half-bent,  trembling  knees,  fetlock  deep 
in  the  wet  sand  of  the  ditch-banks. 

"  Drink,  you  sons-uh-guns,  drink !  "  Weary  ex- 
claimed jubilantly.  "  You've  sure  got  it  coming 
—  and  mama,  how  I  do  hate  to  see  a  good  horse 
suffering  for  a  feed  or  water,  or  shelter  from  a 
storm !  " 

They  pulled  them  away  before  they  were  satis- 
fied, and  led  them  back  to  where  green  grass  was 
growing.  There  they  pulled  the  saddles  off  and 
175 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

let  the  poor  brutes  feed  while  they  unpacked  food 
for  themselves. 

"  It'll  pay  in  the  long  run,"  said  Luck,  "  to 
give  them  an  hour  here.  I'll  pay  the  Injuns  for 
what  grass  they  eat.  Ramon  must  have  stopped 
here  yesterday.  I'm  going  up  and  see  if  I  can't 
pry  a  little  information  loose  from  those  squaws 
and  papooses.  Come  on,  Applehead  —  you  can 
talk  a  little  Navvy ;  you  come  and  tell  'em  what  I 
want." 

Applehead  hesitated,  and  with  a  very  good  rea- 
son. He  might,  for  all  he  knew,  be  trespassing 
upon  the  allotment  of  a  friend  or  relative  of  some 
of  the  Indians  he  had  been  compelled  to  "  get " 
in  the  course  of  his  duties  as  sheriff.  And  at  any 
rate  they  all  knew  him  —  or  at  least  knew  of  him. 

"Aw,  gwan,  Applehead,"  Happy  Jack  urged 
facetiously,  sure  that  Applehead  had  tried  to  scare 
him  with  tales  of  Indians  whose  pastoral  pursuits 
proclaimed  aloud  their  purity  of  souls.  "  Gwan ! 
You  ain't  afraid  of  a  couple  of  squaws,  are  yuh  ? 
Go  on  and  talk  to  the  ladies.  Mebby  yuh  might 
win  a  wife  if  yuh  just  had  a  little  nerve !  " 

Applehead  turned  and  glowered.  But  Luck 
176 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

was  already  walking  slowly  toward  the  hogans  and 
looking  back  frequently,  so  Applehead  contented 
himself  by  saying,  "  You  wait  till  this  yere  trip's 
over,  'fore  ye  git  so  dang  funny  in  yore  remarks, 
young  man !  "  and  stalked  after  Luck,  hitching  his 
six-shooter  forward  as  he  went. 

At  the  shed,  the  Indian  who  had  peered  after 
Pink  stood  in  the  doorway  and  stared  unwinkingly 
as  they  came  up.  Applehead  glanced  at  him 
sharply  from  under  his  sorrel  eyebrows  and 
grunted.  He  knew  him  by  sight  well  enough, 
and  he  took  it  for  granted  that  the  recognition 
was  mutual.  But  he  gave  no  sign  of  remembrance. 
Instead,  he  asked  how  much  the  Indian  wanted  for 
the  grass  the  horses  would  eat  in  an  hour. 

The  Indian  looked  at  the  two  impassively  and 
did  not  say  anything  at  all ;  so  Applehead  flipped 
him  a  dollar. 

"  Now,  what  time  did  them  fellows  pass  here 
yesterday  ?  "  Applehead  asked,  in  the  half  Indian, 
half  Mexican  jargon  which  nearly  all  New  Mex- 
ico Indians  speak. 

The  Indian  looked  at  the  dollar  and  moved  his 
head  of  bobbed  hair  vaguely  from  left  to  right. 
177 


"  All  right,  dang  ye,  don't  talk  if  ye  don't  feel 
like  it,"  Applehead  commented  in  wasted  sarcasm, 
and  looked  at  Luck  for  some  hint  of  what  was 
wanted  next.  Luck  seemed  uncertain,  so  Apple- 
head  turned  toward  the  ditch,  and  the  food  his 
empty  stomach  craved. 

"  No  use  tryin'  to  make  'em  talk  if  they  ain't 
in  the  notion,"  he  told  Luck  impatiently.  "  He's 
got  his  dollar,  and  we'll  take  what  grass  our  hosses 
kin  pack  away  in  their  bellies.  That  kinda  winds 
up  the  transaction,  fur's  I  kin  see." 

"  I  wonder  if  another  dollar  — " 

But  Applehead  interrupted  him.  "Another 
dollar  might  git  him  warmed  up  so's  he'd  shake 
his  danged  head  twicet  instid  uh  oncet,"  he  as- 
serted pessimistically,  "  but  that's  all  you'd  git 
outa  him.  That  thar  buck  ain't  tcftkin'  today. 
Yuh  better  come  an'  eat  'n'  rest  yer  laigs.  If  he 
talked,  he'd  lie.  "We're  a  heap  better  off  jest  doin' 
our  own  trailin'  same  as  we  been  doin'.  That 
bunch  come  by  here;  the  tracks  show  that.  If 
they  went  on,  the  tracks'll  show  where  they  headed 
fur.  'N'  my  idee  is  that  they'll  take  their  time 
from  now  on.  They  don't  know  we're  trailin'  'em 
178 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

up.  I'll  bet  they  never  throwed  back  any  scout 
t'  watch  the  back  trail,  V  they're  in  ISTavvy  coun- 
try now  —  whar  they're  purty  tol'ble  safe  if  they 
stand  in  with  the  Injuns.  'W  I'm  tellin'  yuh 
right  now,  Luck,  I  wisht  I  could  say  as  much  fer 
us !  "  Applehead  lifted  his  hat  and  rubbed  his 
palm  over  his  bald  pate  that  was  covered  thickly 
with  beads  of  perspiration,  as  if  his  head  were  a 
stone  jar  filled  with  cold  water.  "  If  we  have  to 
sep'rate,  Luck,  you  take  a  fool's  advice  and  keep 
yore  dang  eyes  open.  The  boys,  they  think  I  been 
stringin'  'em  along.  Mebby  you  think  so  too,  but 
I  kin  tell  ye  right  now  't  we  gotta  keep  our  dang 
eyes  in  our  haids !  " 

"  I'm  taking  your  word  for  it,  Applehead," 
Luck  told  him,  lowering  his  voice  a  little  because 
they  were  nearing  the  others.  "  Besides,  I've 
heard  a  lot  about  these  tricky  boys  with  the  Dutch- 
cut  on  their  hair.  I'm  keeping  it  all  in  mind  — 
,  don't  worry.  But  I  sure  am  going  to  overhaul 
Ramon,  if  we  have  to  follow  him  to  salt  water." 

"Well,  now,  I  ain't  never  turned  back  on  a 
trail  yit,  fer  want  uh  nerve  to  f oiler  it,"  Apple- 
head  stated  offendedly.  "  When  I  was  shurf  — " 
179 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

The  enlivened  jumble  of  voices,  each  proclaim- 
ing the  owner's  hopes  or  desires  or  disbelief  to 
ears  that  were  not  listening,  quite  submerged 
Applehead's  remarks  upon  the  subject  of  his  well- 
known  prowess  when  he  was  "  shurf."  The 
Happy  Family  were  sprawled  in  unwonted  luxury 
on  the  shady  side  of  an  outcropping  of  rock  from 
under  which  a  little  spring  seeped  and  made  a 
small  oasis  in  the  general  barrenness.  They  had 
shade,  they  had  water  and  food,  and  through  the 
thin  aromatic  smoke  of  their  cigarettes  they  could 
watch  their  horses  cropping  avidly  the  green  grass 
that  meant  so  much  to  them.  The  knowledge  that 
an  hour  later  they  would  be  traveling  again  in  the 
blazing  heat  of  midday  but  emphasized  their  pres- 
ent comfort.  They  were  enjoying  every  minute 
to  its  full  sixty  seconds.  Laughter  came  easily 
and  the  hardships  of  the  trail  were  pushed  into 
the  background  of  their  minds. 

They  were  not  particularly  anxious  over  the  sue- 1 
cess  or  failure  of  Luck's  trip  to  the  hogans.  They 
were  on  Eamon's  trail  (or  so  they  firmly  believed) 
and  sooner  or  later  they  would  overhaul  him  and 
Bill  Holmes.  When  that  happened  they  believed 
180 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

that  they  would  be  fully  equal  to  the  occasion,  and 
that  Ramon  and  Bill  and  those  who  were  with  him 
would  learn  what  it  means  to  turn  traitor  to  the 
hand  that  has  fed  them,  and  to  fling  upon  that  hand 
the  mud  of  public  suspicion.  But  just  now  they 
were  not  talking  about  these  things;  they  were 
arguing  very  earnestly  over  a  very  trivial  matter 
indeed,  and  they  got  as  much  satisfaction  out  of 
the  contention  as  though  it  really  amounted  to 
something. 

When  Luck  had  eaten  and  smoked  and  had 
ground  his  cigarette  stub  under  his  heel  in  the 
moist  earth  beside  the  spring,  and  had  looked  at 
his  watch  and  got  upon  his  feet  with  a  sigh  to  say : 
"Well,  boys,  let's  go,"  the  Happy  Family  (who 
by  the  way  must  now  be  understood  as  including 
Lite  Avery)  sighed  also  and  pulled  their  reluctant 
feet  toward  them  and  got  up  also,  with  sundry 
hitchings-into-place  as  to  gun-belts  and  sundry  re- 
settlings  as  to  hats.  They  pulled  their  horses  — 
more  reluctant  even  than  their  riders  —  away  from 
the  green  grass ;  resaddled,  recinched  the  packs  on 
the  four  animals  that  carried  the  camp  supplies, 
gave  them  a  last  drink  at  the  little  irrigating  ditch 
181 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

and  mounted  and  straggled  out  again  upon  the 
trail  of  the  six  whom  they  seemed  never  able  to 
overtake. 

They  did  not  know  that  the  silent  Indian  with 
the  dingy  overalls  and  the  bobbed  hair  had  watched 
every  movement  they  made.  Through  all  that 
hour  of  rest  not  even  a  papoose  had  been  visible 
around  the  hogans  —  which,  while  there  was  noth- 
ing warlike  in  their  keeping  under  cover,  was  not 
exactly  a  friendly  attitude.  Applehead  had  kept 
turning  his  keen,  bright  blue  eyes  that  way  while 
he  ate  and  afterwards  smoked  an  after-dinner  pipe, 
but  when  they  were  actually  started  again  upon 
the  trail  he  appeared  to  lay  aside  his  misgivings. 

Not  even  Applehead  suspected  that  the  Indian 
had  led  a  pony  carefully  down  into  a  draw,  keep- 
ing the  buildings  always  between  himself  and  the 
party  of  white  men;  nor  that  he  watched  them 
while  they  spread  out  beyond  the  cultivated  patch 
of  irrigated  ground  until  they  picked  up  the  trail 
of  the  six  horses,  when  they  closed  the  gaps  be- 
tween them  and  followed  the  trail  straight  away 
into  the  parched  mesa  that  was  lined  with  deep 
washes  and  canons  and  crossed  with  stony  ridges 
182 


THE  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 

where  the  heat  radiated  up  from  the  bare  rocks 
as  from  a  heating  stove  when  the  fire  is  blazing 
within.  When  they  rode  away  together,  the  In- 
dian ran  back  into  the  draw,  mounted  his  pony  and 
lashed  it  into  a  heavy,  sure-footed  gallop. 


183 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SET   AFOOT 


I 


rock-bottomed  arroyo  so  deep  in  most  places 
that  all  view  of  the  surrounding  mesa  was  shut 
off  completely,  save  where  the  ragged  tops  of  a 
distant  line  of  hills  pushed  up  into  the  dazzling 
blue  of  the  sky.  The  heat,  down  here  among  the 
rocks,  was  all  but  unbearable ;  and  when  they  dis- 
covered that  no  tracks  led  out  of  the  arroyo  on  the 
farther  side,  the  Happy  Family  dismounted  and 
walked  to  save  their  horses  while  they  divided  into 
two  parties  and  hunted  up  and  down  the  arroyo 
for  the  best  trail. 

It  was  just  such  vexatious  delays  as  this  which 
had  kept  them  always  a  day's  ride  or  more  behind 
their  quarry,  and  Luck's  hand  trembled  with  nerv- 
ous irritability  when  he  turned  back  and  handed 
Applehead  one  of  those  small,  shrill  police  whistles 
whose  sound  carries  so  far,  and  which  are  much 
184 


SET  AFOOT 

used  by  motion-picture  producers  for  the  long- 
distance direction  of  scenes. 

"  I  happened  to  have  a  couple  in  my  pocket," 
he  explained  hurriedly.  "  You  know  the  signals, 
don't  you  ?  One  long,  two  short  will  mean  you've 
picked  up  the  trail.  Three  or  more  short,  quick 
ones  is  an  emergency  call,  for  all  hands  to  come 
running." 

"  Well,  they's  one  thing  you  want  to  keep  in 
mind,  Luck,"  Applehead  urged  from  his  superior 
trail  craft.  "  They  might  be  sharp  enough  to  ride 
in  here  a  ways  and  come  out  the  same  side  they 
rode  in  at.  Yuh  want  to  hunt  both  sides  as  yuh 
go  up." 

"  Sure,"  said  Luck,  and  hurried  away  up  the 
arroyo  with  Pink,  Big  Medicine,  Andy  and  the 
Native  Son  at  his  heels,  leading  the  two  pack- 
horses  that  belonged  to  their  party.  In  the  oppo- 
site direction  went  Applehead  and  the  others,  their 
eyes  upon  the  ground  watching  for  the  faintest 
sign  of  hoofprints. 

That  blazing  ball  of  torment,  the  sun,  slid  far- 
ther and  farther  down  to  the  skyline,  tempering 
its  heat  with  the  cool  promise  of  dusk.  Away  up 
185 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  arroyo,  Luck  stopped  for  breath  after  a  sharp 
climb  up  through  a  narrow  gash  in  the  sheer  wall 
of  what  was  now  a  small  canon,  and  saw  that  to 
search  any  farther  in  that  direction  would  be  use- 
less. Across  the  arroyo  —  that  had  narrowed  and 
deepened  until  it  was  a  canon  —  Andy  Green  was 
mopping  his  face  with  his  handkerchief  and  study- 
ing a  bold  hump  of  jumbled  bowlders  and  ledges, 
evidently  considering  whether  it  was  worth  while 
toiling  up  to  the  top.  A  little  below  him,  the  Na- 
tive Son  was  flinging  rocks  at  a  rattlesnake  with  the 
vicious  precision  of  frank  abhorrence.  Down  in 
the  canon  bottom  \  Big  Medicine  and  Pink  were 
holding  the  horses  on  the  shady  side  of  the  gorge, 
and  the  smoke  of  their  cigarettes  floated  lazily  up- 
ward with  the  jumbled  monotone  of  their  voices. 

Andy,  glancing  across  at  Luck,  waved  his  hand 
and  sat  down  on  a  rock  that  was  shaded  by  a  high 
bowlder ;  reached  mechanically  for  his  "  makings  " 
and  with  his  feet  far  apart  and  his  elbows  on  his 
thighs,  wearily  rolled  a  cigarette. 

"  How  about  it,  boss  ? "  he  asked,  scarcely  rais- 
ing his  voice  above  the  ordinary  conversational 
tone,  though  a  hard  fifteen-minutes'  climb  up  and 
186 


SET  AFOOT 

down  separated  the  two ;  "  they  never  came  up  the 
arroyo,  if  you  ask  me.  My  side  don't  show  a  hoof 
track  from  where  we  left  the  boys  down  below." 

"  Mine  either,"  Luck  replied,  by  the  power  of 
suggestion  seating  himself  and  reaching  for  his 
own  tobacco  and  papers.  "  We  might  as  well 
work  back  down  and  connect  with  Applehead. 
Wish  there  was  some  sign  of  water  in  this  darn 
gulch.  By  the  time  we  get  down  where  we  started 
from,  it'll  be  sundown."  He  glanced  down  at  Bud 
and  Pink.  "  Hey !  You  can  start  back  any 
time,"  he  called.  "  Nothing  up  this  way." 

"  Here's  the  grandfather  of  all  rattlers,"  Miguel 
called  across  to  Luck,  and  held  up  by  the  tail  a 
great  snake  that  had  not  ceased  its  muscular  writh- 
ings.  "  Twelve  rattles  and  a  button.  Have  I 
got  time  to  skin  him  ?  He  tried  to  bite  me  on  the 
leg  —  but  I  heard  him  and  got  outa  reach." 

"  We've  got  to  be  moving,"  Luck  answered. 
"  It's  a  long  ways  back  where  we  started  from, 
and  we've  got  to  locate  water,  if  we  can."  He 
rose  with  the  deliberateness  that  indicated  tired 
muscles,  and  started  back ;  and  to  himself  he  mut- 
tered exasperatedly :  "  A  good  three  hours  all 
187 


shot  to  pieces  —  and  not  a  mile  gained  on  that 
bunch!" 

The  Native  Son,  calmly  pinching  the  rattles  off 
the  snake  he  had  not  time  to  skin,  climbed  down 
into  the  canon  and  took  his  horse  Hby  the  bridle 
reins.  Behind  him  Andy  Green  came  scrambling ; 
but  Luck,  still  faintly  hoping  for  a  clue,  kept  to 
the  upper  rim  of  the  arroyo,  scanning  every  bit 
of  soft  ground  where  it  seemed  possible  for  a  horse 
to  climb  up  from  below.  He  had  always  recog- 
nized the  native  cunning  of  Ramon,  but  he  had 
never  dreamed  him  as  cunning  as  this  latest  ruse 
would  seem  to  prove  him. 

As  for  Bill  Holmes,  Luck  dismissed  him  with 
a  shrug  of  contempt.  Bill  Holmes  had  been 
stranded  in  Albuquerque  when  the  cold  weather 
was  coming  on;  he  had  been  hungry  and  shelter- 
less and  ill-clad  —  one  of  those  bits  of  flotsam 
-which  drift  into  our  towns  and  stand  dejectedly 
upon  our  street-corners  when  they  do  not  prowl 
down  alleys  to  the  back  doors  of  our  restaurants 
in  the  hope  of  being  permitted  to  wash  the  soiled 
dishes  of  more  fortunate  men  for  the  food  which 
diners  have  left  beside  their  plates.  Luck  had  fed 
188 


SET  AFOOT 

Bill  Holmes,  and  he  had  given  him  work  to  do 
and  the  best  food  and  shelter  he  could  afford ;  and 
for  thanks,  Bill  had  —  as  Luck  believed  —  made 
sly,  dishonest  love  to  Annie-Many-Ponies,  for 
whose  physical  and  moral  welfare  Luck  would  be 
held  responsible.  Bill  had  deliberately  chosen  to 
steal  rather  than  work  for  honest  wages,  and  had 
preferred  the  unstable  friendship  of  Eamon  Chavez 
to  the  cleaner  life  in  Luck's  company.  He  did 
not  credit  Bill  Holmes  with  anything  stronger  than 
a  weak-souled  treachery.  Eamon,  he  told  himself 
while  he  made  his  way  down  the  arroyo  side,  was 
at  least  working  out  a  clever  scheme  of  his  own, 
and  it  rested  with  Luck  and  his  posse  to  see  that 
Eamon  was  cheated  of  success. 

So  deeply  was  he  engrossed  that  before  he  real- 
ized it  he  was  down  where  they  had  left  Apple- 
head's  party.  There  was  no  sign  of  them  any- 
where, so  Luck  went  down  and  mounted  his  horse 
and  led  the  way  down  the  arroyo. 

Already  the  heat  was  lessening  and  the  land  was 

taking  on  those  translucent  opal  tints  which  make 

of  New  Mexico  a  land  of  enchantment.     The  far 

hills  enveloped  themselves  in  a  faint,  purplish  haze 

189 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

through  which  they  seemed  to  blush  unwittingly. 
The  mesa,  no  longer  showing  itself  an  arid  waste 
of  heat  and  untracked  wilderness,  lay  soft  under  a 
thin  veil  of  many  ethereal  tints.  Away  off  to  the 
northeast  they  heard  the  thin,  vague  clamor  of  a 
band  of  sheep  and  the  staccato  barking  of  a  dog. 

Luck  rode  for  some  distance,  his  uneasiness 
growing  as  the  shadows  deepened  with  the  setting 
of  the  sun.  They  had  gone  too  far  to  hear  any 
whistled  signal,  but  it  seemed  to  him  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  Applehead  would  return  to  their 
starting  point,  whether  he  found  the  trail  or  not ; 
or  at  least  send  a  man  back.  Luck  began  to  think 
more  seriously  of  Applehead's  numerous  warnings 
about  the  Indians  —  and  yet,  there  had  been  no 
sound  of  shooting,  which  is  the  first  sign  of  trou- 
ble in  this  country.  Rifle  shots  can  be  heard  a 
long  way  in  this  clear  air;  so  Luck  presently  dis- 
missed that  worry  and  gave  his  mind  to  the  very 
real  one  which  assailed  them  all ;  which  was  water 
for  their  horses. 

The  boys  were  riding  along  in  silence,  sitting 
over  to  one  side  with  a  foot  dangling  free  of  its 
stirrup;  except  Andy,  who  had  hooked  one  leg 
190 


over  the  saddle-horn  and  was  riding  sidewise, 
smoking  a  meditative  cigarette  and  staring  out  be- 
tween the  ears  of  his  horse.  They  were  tired; 
horses  and  men,  they  were  tired  to  the  middle  of 
their  bones.  But  they  went  ahead  without  mak- 
ing any  complaints  whatever  or  rasping  one- 
another's  tempers  with  ill-chosen  remarks ;  and  for 
that  Luck's  eyes  brightened  with  appreciation. 

Presently,  when  they  had  ridden  at  least  a  mile 
down  the  arroyo,  a  gray  hat-crown  came  bobbing 
into  sight  over  a  low  tongue  of  rocky  ground  that 
cut  the  channel  almost  in  two.  The  horses  threw 
up  their  heads  and  perked  ears  forward  inquir- 
ingly, and  in  a  moment  Happy  Jack  came  into 
view,  his  gloomy,  sunburned  face  wearing  a  re- 
luctant grin. 

"Well,  we  got  on  the  trail,"  he  announced  as 
soon  as  he  was  close  enough.  "  And  we  follered  it 
to  water.  Applehead  says  f  er  you  to  come  on  and 
make  camp.  Tracks  are  fresher  around  that 
water-hole'n  what  they  have  been,  an'  Applehead, 
he's  all  enthused.  I  betche  we  land  them  fellers 
t'morrow." 

Out  of  the  arroyo  in  a  place  where  the  scant 
191 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

grassland  lapped  down  over  the  edge,  Happy  Jack 
led  the  way  and  the  rest  followed  eagerly.  Too 
often  had  they  made  dry  camp  not  to  feel  jubilant 
over  the  prospect  even  of  a  brackish  water-hole. 
Even  the  horses  seemed  to  know  and  to  step  out 
more  briskly.  Straight  across  the  mesa  with  its 
deceptive  lights  that  concealed  distance  behind  a 
glamor  of  intimate  nearness,  they  rode  into  the 
deepening  dusk  that  had  a  glow  all  through  it. 
After  a  while  they  dipped  into  a  grassy  draw  so 
shallow  that  they  hardly  realized  the  descent  until 
they  dismounted  at  the  bottom,  where  Applehead 
was  already  starting  a  fire  and  the  others  were  lay- 
ing out  their  beds  and  doing  the  hundred  little 
things  that  make  for  comfort  in  camp. 

A  few  bushes  and  a  stunted  tree  or  two  marked 
the  spring  that  seeped  down  and  fed  a  shallow 
water-hole  where  the  horses  drank  thirstily.  Ap- 
plehead grinned  and  pointed  to  the  now  familiar 
hoofprints  which  they  had  followed  so  far. 

"I  calc'late  Ramon  done  a  heap  uh  millin* 
around  back  there  in  that  rocky  arroyo,"  he  ob- 
served, "'fore  he  struck  off  over  here.  Er  else 
they  was  held  up  fer  some  reason,  'cause  them 
192 


SET  AFOOT 

tracks  is  fresher  a  hull  lot  than  what  them  was 
that  passed  the  Injun  ranch.  Musta  laid  over 
here  las'  night,  by  the  looks.  But  I  figgered  that 
we'd  best  camp  whilst  we  had  water,  V  take  up 
the  trail  agin  at  daybreak.  Ain't  that  about  the 
way  you  see  it,  Luck  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly,"  Luck  assured  him  with  as 
much  heartiness  as  his  utter  weariness  would  per- 
mit. "  Men  and  horses,  we're  about  all  in.  If 
Ramon  was  just  over  the  next  ridge,  I  don't  know 
but  it  would  pay  to  take  our  rest  before  we  over- 
haul them." 

"  They's  grass  here,  yuh  notice,"  Applehead 
pointed  out.  "  I'll  put  the  bell  on  Johnny,  and  if 
Pink'll  hobble  that  buckskin  that's  allus  wantin' 
to  wander  off  by  hisself,  I  calc'late  we  kin  settle 
down  an'  rest  our  bones  quite  awhile  b'fore  any- 
body needs  to  go  on  guard.  Them  ponies  ain't 
goin'  to  stray  fur  off  if  they  don't  have  to,  after 
the  groun'  they  covered  t'day  —  now  I'm  tellin' 
yuh !  They'll  save  their  steps." 

There  is  a  superstition  about  prophesying  too 
boastfully  that  a  certain  thing  will  or  will  not 
happen;  you  will  remember  that  there  is  also  a 
193 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

provision  that  the  rash  prophet  may  avert  disaster 
by  knocking  wood.  Applehead  should,  if  there  is 
any  grain  of  sense  in  the  rite,  have  knocked  wood 
with  his  fingers  crossed  as  an  extra  precaution 
against  evil  fortune. 

For  after  they  had  eaten  and  methodically 
packed  away  the  food,  and  while  they  were  lying 
around  the  cheerful  glow  of  their  little  campfire, 
misfortune  stole  up  out  of  the  darkness  unaware. 
They  talked  desultorily  as  tired  men  will,  their 
alertness  dulled  by  the  contented  tinkle-tinkle  of 
the  little  bell  strapped  around  the  neck  of  big,  bay 
Johnny,  Applehead' s  companion  of  many  a  desert 
wandering.  That  brilliant  constellation  which 
seems  to  hang  just  over  one's  head  in  the  high  alti- 
tude of  our  sagebrush  states,  held  hypnotically  the 
sleepy  gaze  of  Pink,  whose  duty  it  was  to  go  on 
guard  when  the  others  turned  in  for  the  night. 
He  lay  with  his  locked  fingers  under  his  head, 
staring  up  at  one  particularly  bright  group  of  stars, 
and  listened  to  the  droning  voice  of  Applehead 
telling  of  a  trip  he  had  made  out  into  this  country 
five  or  six  years  before;  and  soaking  in  the  peace 
and  the  comfort  which  was  all  the  more  precious 
194 


SET  AFOOT 

because  he  knew  that  soon  he  must  drag  his  weary 
body  into  the  saddle  and  ride  out  to  stand  guard 
over  the  horses.  Once  he  half  rose,  every  move- 
ment showing  his  reluctance. 

Whereupon  Weary,  who  sprawled  next  to  him, 
reached  out  a  languid  foot  and  gave  him  a  poke. 
"  Aw,  lay  down,"  he  advised.  "  They're  all  right 
out  there  for  another  hour.  Don't  yuh  hear  the 
bell?" 

They  all  listened  for  a  minute.  The  intermit- 
tent tinkle  of  the  cheap  little  sheep  bell  came 
plainly  to  them  from  farther  down  the  draw  as 
though  Johnny  was  eating  contentedly  with  his 
mates,  thankful  for  the  leisure  and  the  short,  sweet 
grass  that  was  better  than  hay.  Pink  lay  back 
with  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  Luck  told  him  to  sleep 
a  little  if  he  wanted  to,  because  everything  was 
all  right  and  he  would  call  him  if  the  horses  got  to 
straying  too  far  off. 

Down  the  draw  —  where  there  were  no  horses 
feeding  —  an  Indian  in  dirty  overalls  and  ging- 
ham shirt  and  moccasins,  and  with  his  hair  bobbed 
to  his  collar,  stood  up  and  peered  toward  the  vague 
figures  grouped  in  the  fire-glow.  He  lifted  his 
195 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

hand  and  moved  it  slightly,  so  that  the  bell  he  was 
holding  tinkled  exactly  as  it  had  done  when  it  was 
strapped  around  Johnny's  neck;  Johnny,  who  was 
at  that  moment  trailing  disgustedly  over  a  ridge 
half  a  mile  away  with  his  mates,  driven  by  two 
horsemen  who  rode  very  carefully,  so  as  to  make 
no  noise. 

The  figures  settled  back  reassured,  and  the  In- 
dian grinned  sourly  and  tinkled  the  little  bell 
painstakingly,  with  the  matchless  patience  of  the 
Indian.  It  was  an  hour  before  he  dimly  saw  Pink 
get  up  from  the  dying  coals  and  mount  his  horse. 
Then,  still  tinkling  the  bell  as  a  feeding  horse 
would  have  made  it  ring,  he  moved  slowly  down 
the  draw;  slowly,  so  that  Pink  did  not  at  first  sus- 
pect that  the  bell  sounded  farther  off  than  before  \ 
slowly  yet  surely,  leading  Pink  farther  and  far- 
ther in  the  hope  of  speedily  overtaking  the  horses 
that  he  cursed  for  their  wandering. 

Pink  wondered,  after  a  little,  what  was  the  mat- 
ter with  the  darned  things,  wandering  off  like  that 
by  themselves,  and  with  no  possible  excuse  that  he 
could  see.  For  some  time  he  was  not  uneasy;  he 
expected  to  overtake  them  within  the  next  five  or 
196 


SET  AFOOT 

ten  minutes.  They  would  stop  to  feed,  surely,  or 
to  look  back  and  listen  —  in  a  strange  country  like 
this  it  was  against  horse-nature  that  they  should 
wander  far  away  at  night  unless  they  were  thirsty 
and  on  the  scent  of  water.  These  horses  had  drunk 
their  fill  at  the  little  pool  helow  the  spring.  They 
should  be  feeding  now,  or  they  should  lie  down 
and  sleep,  or  stand  up  and  sleep  —  anything 
but  travel  like  this,  deliberately  away  from 
camp. 

Pink  tried  loping,  but  the  ground  was  too  treach- 
erous and  his  horse  too  leg-weary  to  handle  its  feet 
properly  in  the  dark.  It  stumbled  several  times, 
so  he  pulled  down  again  to  a  fast  walk.  For  a 
few  minutes  he  did  not  hear  the  bell  at  all,  and 
when  he  did  it  was  not  where  he  had  expected  to 
hear  it,  but  away  off  to  one  side.  So  he  had  gained 
nothing  save  in  anger  and  uneasiness. 

There  was  no  use  going  back  to  camp  and  rous- 
ing the  boys,  for  he  was  now  a  mile  or  so  away; 
and  they  would  be  afoot,  since  their  custom  was 
to  keep  but  one  horse  saddled.  When  he  went  in 
to  call  the  next  guard  he  would  be  expected  to 
bring  that  man's  horse  back  with  him,  and  would 
197 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

turn  his  own  loose  before  he  went  to  sleep.  Cer- 
tainly there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  rousing 
the  camp. 

He  did  not  suspect  the  trick  being  played  upon 
him,  though  he  did  wonder  if  someone  was  leading 
the  horses  away.  Still,  in  that  case  whoever  did 
it  would  surely  have  sense  enough  to  muffle  the 
bell.  Besides,  it  sounded  exactly  like  a  horse  feed- 
ing and  moving  away  at  random  —  which,  to  those 
familiar  with  the  sound,  can  never  be  mistaken  for 
the  tinkle  of  an  animal  traveling  steadily  to  some 
definite  point. 

It  was  an  extremely  puzzled  young  man  who 
rode  and  rode  that  night  in  pursuit  of  that  evasive, 
nagging,  altogether  maddening  tinkle.  Always 
just  over  the  next  little  rise  he  would  hear  it,  or 
down  in  the  next  little  draw;  never  close  enough 
for  him  to  discover  the  trick;  never  far  enough 
away  for  him  to  give  up  the  chase.  The  stars  he 
had  been  watching  in  camp  swam  through  the 
purple  immensity  above  him  and  slid  behind  the 
skyline.  Other  stars  as  brilliant  appeared  and 
began  their  slow,  swimming  journey.  Pink  rode, 
and  stopped  to  listen,  and  rode  on  again  until  it 
198 


SET  AFOOT 

seemed  to  him  that  he  must  be  dreaming  some  ter- 
ribly realistic  nightmare. 

He  was  sitting  on  his  horse  on  a  lava-crusted 
ridge,  straining  bloodshot  eyes  into  the  mesa  that 
stretched  dimly  before  him,  when  dawn  came 
streaking  the  sky  with  blood  orange  and  purple 
and  crimson.  The  stars  were  quenched  in  that 
flood  of  light ;  and  Pink,  looking  now  with  clearer 
vision,  saw  that  there  was  no  living  thing  in  sight 
save  a  coyote  trotting  home  from  his  night's  hunt- 
ing. He  turned  short  around  and,  getting  his 
bearings  from  his  memory  of  certain  stars  and 
from  the  sun  that  was  peering  at  him  from  the 
top  of  a  bare  peak,  and  from  that  sense  of  direction 
which  becomes  second  nature  to  a  man  who  had 
lived  long  on  the  range,  started  for  camp  with  his 
ill  news. 


199 


CHAPTER  XIY 

ONE   PUT   OVEE   ON    THE   BUNCH 

'  *  £*1  OUNDS  to  me,"  volunteered  the  irrepres- 
k_J  sible  Big  Medicine  after  a  heavy  silence, 
"  like  as  if  you'd  gone  to  sleep  on  your  hawse,  Lit- 
tle One,  and  dreamed  that  there  tinkle-tinkle  stuff. 
By  cripes,  I'd  like  to  see  the  bell-hawse  that  could 
walk  away  from  me  'nless  I  was  asleep  an'  dreamin' 
about  it.  Sounds  like  — " 

"  Sounds  like  Navvy  work,"  Applehead  put  in, 
eyeing  the  surrounding  rim  of  sun-gilded  mesa, 
where  little  brown  birds  fluttered  in  short,  swift 
flights  and  chirped  with  exasperating  cheerful- 
ness. 

"  If  it  was  anybody,  it  was  Ramon  Chavez," 
Luck  declared  with  the  positiveness  of  his  firm 
conviction.  "  By  the  tracks  here,  we're  crowding 
up  on  him.  And  no  man  that's  guilty  of  a  crime, 
Applehead,  is  going  to  ride  day  after  day  without 
200 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

wanting  to  take  a  look  over  his  shoulder  to  see  if 
he's  followed.  He's  probably  seen  us  from  some 
of  these  ridges  —  yesterday,  most  likely.  And  do 
you  think  he  wouldn't  know  this  bunch  as  far  as 
he  could  see  us,  even  without  glasses  ?  The 
chances  are  he  has  them,  though.  He'd  be  a  fool 
if  he  didn't  stake  himself  to  a  pair." 

"  Say,  by  gracious,"  Andy  observed  somewhat 
irrelevantly,  his  eyes  going  over  the  group,  "  this 
would  sure  make  great  picture  dope,  wouldn't  it  ? 
Why  didn't  we  bring  Pete  along,  darn  it  ?  Us  all 
standing  around  here,  plumb  helpless  because  we're 
.afoot  — " 

"  Aw,  shut  up !  "  snapped  Pink,  upon  whom  the 
burden  of  responsibility  lay  heavy.  "  I  oughta 
be  hung  for  laying  around  the  fire  here  instead  of 
being  out  there  on  guard !  I  oughta  — 

"  It  ain't  your  fault,"  Weary  championed  him 
warmly.  "  We  all  heard  the  bell  — " 

"  Yes  —  and  damn  it,  I  heard  the  bell  from 
then  on  till  daylight !  "  Pink's  lips  quivered  per- 
ceptibly with  the  mortification  that  burned  within 
him.  "  If  I'd  been  on  guard  — " 

"Well,  I  calc'late  you'd  a  been  laid  out  now 
201 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

with  a  knife-cut  in  yah  som'ers,"  Applehead 
stopped  twisting  his  sunburnt  mustache  to  say 
bluntly.  "  'S  a  dang  lucky  thing  fer  you,  young 
man,  't  you  wasn't  on  guard,  V  the  only  thing't 
looks  queer  to  me  is  that  you  wasn't  potted  las' 
night  when  yuh  got  out  away  from  here.  Musta 
been  only  one  of  'em  stayed  behind,  an'  he  had  t' 
keep  out  in  front  uh  yuh  t'  tinkle  that  dang  bell. 
Figgered  on  wearin'  out  yer  hoss,  I  reckon,  'nr 
didn't  skurcely  dare  t'  take  the  risk  uh  killin'  you 
off  'nless  they  was  a  bunch  around  t'  handle  us." 
His  bright  blue  eyes  with  their  range  squint  went 
from  one  to  another  with  a  certain  speculative 
pride  in  the  glance.  "  'N'  they  shore  want  t' 
bring  a  crowd  along  when  they  tie  into  this  yere 
outfit,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

Lite  Avery,  who  had  gone  prowling  down  the 
draw  by  himself,  came  back  to  camp,  tilting  stiff- 
leggedly  along  in  his  high-heeled  boots  and  betray- 
ing, in  every  step  he  took,  just  how  handicapped 
a  cowpuncher  is  when  set  afoot  upon  the  range  and 
forced  to  walk  where  he  has  always  been  accus- 
tomed to  ride.  He  stopped  to  give  Pink's  ex- 
hausted horse  a  sympathetic  pat  on  the  shoulder, 

202 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

and  came  on,  grinning  a  little  with  the  corners  of 
his  mouth  tipped  down. 

"  Here's  what's  left  of  the  hobbles  the  buck- 
skin wore,"  he  said,  holding  up  the  cut  loops  of  a 
figure-eight  rope  hobble.  "KInda  speaks  for  it-, 
self,  don't  it  ?  " 

They  crowded  around  to  inspect  this  plain  evi- 
dence of  stealing.  Afterwards  they  stood  hard- 
eyed  and  with  a  flush  on  their  cheek-bones,  consid- 
ering what  was  the  best  and  wisest  way  to  meet  this 
emergency.  As  to  hunting  afoot  for  their  horses, 
the  chance  of  success  was  almost  too  small  to  be 
considered  at  all.  Pink's  horse  was  not  fit  for 
further  travel  until  he  had  rested.  There  was  one 
pair  of  field  glasses  —  and  there  were  nine  irate 
men  to  whom  inaction  was  intolerable. 

"  One  thing  we  can  do,  if  we  have  to,"  Luck 
said  at  last,  with  the  fighting  look  in  his  face  which 
moving-picture  people  had  cause  to  remember. 
"  We  can  help  ourselves  to  any  horses  we  run 
across.  Applehead,  how's  the  best  way  to  go  about 
it?" 

Applehead,  thus  pushed  into  leadership,  chewed 
his  mustache  and  eyed  the  mesa  sourly.  "  Well,, 
203 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

aeein'  they've  set  us  afoot,  I  calc'late  we're  jest 
about  entitled  to  any  dang  thing  we  run  across 
that's  ridable,"  he  acceded.  "  ']$P  the  way  I'd 
do,  would  be  to  git  on  high  groun'  with  them 
glasses  'n'  look  fer  bosses.  '£P  then  head  fer  'em 
'n'  round  'em  up  afoot  'n'  rope  out  what  we  want. 
They's  enough  of  us  t'  mebby  git  a  mount  apiece, 
but  it  shore  ain't  goin'  t'  be  no  snap,  now  I'm 
tellin'  ye.  'W  if  yuh  do  that,"  he  added,  "  yuh 
want  t'  leave  a  man  er  two  in  camp  — 'n'  they  want 
to  keep  their  dang  eyes  peeled,  lemme  tell  yuh! 
Ef  we  was  t'  find  ourselves  afoot  an'  our  grub  'n' 
outfit  stole  — " 

"  We  won't  give  them  that  chance  at  us."  Luck 
was  searching  with  his  eyes  for  the  nearest  high 
point  that  was  yet  not  too  far  from  camp.  "  I 
think  I'll  just  take  Andy  up  on  that  pinnacle  there, 
and  camp  down  by  that  pile  of  boulders.  The 
rest  of  you  stay  around  camp  and  rest  yourselves 
while  you've  got  the  chance.  In  a  couple  of  hours, 
Applehead,  you  and  Lite  come  up  and  take  our 
place ;  then  Miguel  and  Bud,  and  after  that  Weary 
and  Happy.  Pink,  you  go  and  bed  down  in  the 
shade  somewhere  and  go  to  sleep  —  and  quit 
204 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

worrying  over  last  night.  Nobody  could  have 
done  any  better  than  you  did.  It  was  just  one  put 
over  on  the  bunch,  and  you  happened  to  be  the 
particular  goat,  that's  all. 

"  Now,  if  one  of  us  waves  his  hat  over  his  head, 
all  of  you  but  Happy  and  Bud  and  Pink  come  up 
with  your  rifles  and  your  ropes,  because  we'll  have 
some  horses  sighted.  If  we  wave  from  side  to 
side,  like  this,  about  even  with  our  belts,  you  boys 
want  to  look  out  for  trouble.  So  one  of  you  keep 
an  eye  on  us  all  the  time  we're  up  there.  We'll 
be  up  outa  reach  of  any  trouble  ourselves,  if  I  re- 
member that  little  pinnacle  right."  He  hung  the 
strap  that  held  the  leather  case  of  the  glasses  over 
one  shoulder,  picked  up  his  rifle  and  his  rope  and 
started  off,  with  Andy  similarly  equipped  coming 
close  behind  him. 

The  mesa,  when  they  reached  the  pinnacle  and 
looked  down  over  the  wide  expanse  of  it,  glim- 
mered like  clear,  running  water  with  the  heat1 
waves  that  rose  from  the  sand.  Away  to  the 
southward  a  scattered  band  of  sheep  showed  in  a 
mirage  that  made  them  look  long-legged  as  camels 
and  half  convinced  them  both  that  they  were  seeing 
205 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  lost  horses,  until  the  vision  changed  and  shrunk 
the  moving  objects  to  mere  dots  upon  the  mesa. 

Often  before  they  had  watched  the  fantastic  air- 
pictures  of  the  desert  mirage,  and  they  knew  well 
enough  that  what  they  saw  might  be  one  mile 
away  or  twenty.  But  unless  the  atmospheric  con- 
ditions happened  to  be  just  right,  what  was  pic- 
tured in  the  air  could  not  be  depended  upon  to 
portray  truthfully  what  was  reflected.  They  sat 
there  and  saw  the  animals  suddenly  grow  clearly 
defined  and  very  close,  and  discovered  at  last  that 
they  were  sheep,  and  that  a  man  was  walking  be- 
side the  flock ;  and  even  while  they  watched  it  and 
wondered  if  the  sheep  were  really  as  close  as  they 
seemed,  the  vision  slowly  faded  into  blank,  wavery 
distance  and  the  mesa  lay  empty  and  quivering 
under  the  sun. 

"  Fine  chance  we've  got  of  locating  anything," 
Andy  grumbled,  "  if  it's  going  to  be  miragy  all 
day.  We  could  run  our  fool  heads  off  trying  to 
get  up  to  a  bunch  that  would  puff  out  into  nothing. 
Makes  a  fellow  think  of  the  stories  they  tell  about 
old  prospectors  going  crazy  trying  to  find  mirage 
water-holes.  I'm  glad  we  didn't  get  hung  up  at 
206 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

a  dry  camp,  Luck.  Yuh  realize  what  that  would 
belike?" 

"  Oh,  I  may  have  some  faint  idea,"  Luck 
drawled  whimsically.  "  Look  over  there,  Andy  — 
over  toward  Albuquerque.  Is  that  a  mirage  again, 
or  do  you  see  something  moving  ?  " 

Andy,  having  the  glasses,  swung  them  slowly 
to  the  southeast.  After  a  minute  or  two  he  shook 
his  head  and  gave  the  glasses  to  Luck.  "  There 
was  one  square  look  I  got,  and  I'd  been  willing  to 
swear  it  was  our  saddle-bunch,"  he  said.  "  And 
then  they  got  to  wobbling  and  I  couldn't  make  out 
what  they  are.  They  might  be  field  mice,  or  they 
might  be  giraffes  —  I'm  darned  if  I  know  which." 

Luck  focussed  the  glasses,  but  whatever  the  ob- 
jects had  been,  they  were  no  longer  to  be  seen. 
So  the  two  hours  passed  and  they  saw  Applehead 
and  Lite  come  slowly  up  the  hill  from  camp  bear- 
ing their  rifles  and  their  ropes  and  a  canteen  of 
fresh  water,  as  the  three  things  they  might  find 
most  use  for. 

These  two  settled  themselves  to  watch  for 
horses  —  their  own  range  horses.  When  they  were 
relieved  they  reported  nothing  save  a  continued 
207 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

inclination  on  the  part  of  the  atmosphere  to  be 
what  Andy  called  miragy.  So  the  day  passed, 
chafing  their  spirits  worse  than  any  amount  of 
active  trouble  would  have  done.  Pink  slept  and 
brooded  by  turns,  still  blaming  himself  for  the  mis- 
fortune. The  others  moped,  or  took  their  turns 
on  the  pinnacle  to  strain  their  eyes  unavailingly 
into  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  —  or  as  much 
as  they  could  in  those  directions. 

With  the  going  of  the  sun  Applehead  and  Lite, 
sitting  out  their  second  guard  on  the  pinnacle,  dis- 
cussed seriously  the  desperate  idea  of  going  in  the 
night  to  the  nearest  Navajo  ranch  and  helping 
themselves  to  what  horses  they  could  find  about 
the  place.  The  biggest  obstacle  was  their  absolute 
ignorance  of  where  the  nearest  ranch  lay.  Not, 
surelj,  that  half-day's  ride  back  towards  Albu- 
querque, where  they  had  seen  but  one  pony  and 
that  a  poor  specimen  of  horseflesh.  Another  ob- 
stacle would  be  the  dogs,  which  could  be  quieted 
only  with  bullets. 

"  We  might  git  hold  of  something  to  ride,"  Ap- 
plehead stated  glumly,  "  an'  then  agin  the  chances 
is  we  wouldn't  git  nothin'  more'n  a  scrap  on  our 
208 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

hands.  7N'  I'm  tellin'  yuh  right  now,  Lite,  I  ain't 
hankerin'  fer  no  fuss  till  I  git  a  hoss  under  me." 

"  Me  either,"  Lite  testified  succinctly.  "  Say, 
is  that  something  coming,  away  up  that  draw  the 
camp's  in  ?  Seems  to  me  I  saw  something  pass 
that  line  of  lava,  about  half  a  mile  over." 

Applehead  stood  up  and  peered  into  the  half 
darkness.  In  a  couple  of  minutes  he  said :  "  Ye 
better  git  down  an'  tell  the  boys  t'  be  on  the  watch, 
Lite.  They  can't  see  no  hat-wavin'  this  time  uh 
day.  They's  somethin'  movin'  up  to-wards  camp, 
but  what  er  who  they  be  I  can't  make  out  in  the 
dark.  Tell  Luck  — " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  us  both  going  ?  "  Lite 
asked,  cupping  his  hands  around  his  eyes  that  he 
might  see  better.  "  It's  getting  too  dark  to  do  any 
good  up  here  — " 

"  Well,  I  calc'late  mebby  yore  right,"  Applehead 
admitted,  and  began  to  pick  his  way  down  over 
the  rocks.  "  Ef  them's  Injuns,  the  bigger  we  stack 
up  in  camp  the  better.  If  it's  Ramon  'n'  his 
bunch,  I  want  t'  git  m'  hands  on  'im." 

He  must  have  turned  the  matter  over  pretty 
thoroughly  in  his  mind,  for  when  the  two  reached 
209 


'THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

camp  he  had  his  ideas  fixed  and  his  plans  all  per- 
fected. He  told  Luck  that  somebody  was  working 
down  the  draw  in  the  dark,  and  that  it  looked  like 
a  Navvy  trick;  and  that  they  had  better  be  ready 
for  them,  because  they  weren't  coming  just  to  pass 
the  time  of  day  — "  now  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 

The  nerves  of  the  Happy  Family  were  raw 
enough  by  now  to  welcome  anything  that  promised 
action ;  even  an  Indian  fight  would  not  be  so  much 
a  disaster  as  a  novel  way  of  breaking  the  monotony. 
Applehead,  with  the  experience  gathered  in  the  old 
days  when  he  was  a  young  fellow  with  a  freighting 
outfit  and  old  Geronimo  was  terrorizing  all  this 
country,  sent  them  back  in  compact  half  circle  just 
within  the  shelter  of  the  trees  and  several  rods 
away  from  their  campfire  and  the  waterhole. 
There,  lying  crouched  behind  their  saddles  with 
their  rifles  across  the  seat-sides  and  with  ammuni- 
tion belts  full  of  cartridges,  they  waited  for  what- 
ever might  be  coming  in  the  dark. 

"  It's  horses,"  Pink  exclaimed  under  his  breath, 
as  faint  sounds  came  down  the  draw.  "  Maybe  — " 

"  Horses  —  and  an  Injun  laying  along  the  back 
of  every  one,  most  likely,"  Applehead  returned 
210 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

grimly.  "  An  old  jSTavvy  trick,  that  is  —  don't  let 
'em  fool  ye,  boys !  You  jest  wait,  'n'  I'll  tell  ye 
when  t'  shoot,  er  whether  t'  shoot  at  all.  They 
can't  fool  me  —  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

After  that  they  were  silent,  listening  strainedly 
to  the  growing  sounds  of  approach.  There  was  the 
dull,  unmistakable  click  of  a  hoof  striking  against 
a  rock,  the  softer  sound  of  treading  on  yielding 
soil.  Then  a  blur  of  dark  objects  became  visible, 
moving  slowly  and  steadily  toward  the  camp. 

"  Aw,  it's  just  horses,"  Happy  Jack  muttered 
disgustedly. 

Applchead  stretched  a  lean  leg  in  his  direc- 
tion and  gave  Happy  Jack  a  kick.  "  They're  cun- 
nin',"  he  hissed  warningly.  "  Don't  yuh  be 
fooled  — " 

"  That's  Johnny  in  the  lead,"  Pink  whispered 
excitedly.  "  I'd  know  the  way  he  walks  — " 

"  '1ST'  you  thought  yuh  knowed  how  he  jingled 
his  dang  bell,"  Applehead  retorted  unkindly. 
"Sh-sh-sh  — " 

Reminded  by  the  taunt  of  the  clever  trick  that 
had  been  played  upon  them  the  night  before,  the 
Happy  Family  stiffened  again  into  strained,  wait- 
211 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ing  silence,  their  rifles  aimed  straight  at  the  ad- 
vancing objects.  These,  still  vague  in  the  first 
real  darkness  of  early  night,  moved  steadily  in  a. 
scattered  group  behind  a  leader  that  was  undoubt- 
edly Johnny  of  the  erstwhile  tinkling  bell.  He 
circled  the  campfire  just  without  its  radius  of 
light,  so  that  they  could  not  tell  whether  an  Indian 
lay  along  his  back,  and  headed  straight  for  the 
waterhole.  The  others  followed  him,  and  not  one 
came  into  the  firelight  —  a  detail  which  sharp- 
ened the  suspicions  of  the  men  crouched  there  in 
the  edge  of  the  bushes,  and  tingled  their  nerves 
with  the  sense  of  something  sinister  in  the  very 
unconcernedness  of  the  animals. 

They  splashed  into  the  water-hole  and  drank 
thirstily  and  long.  They  stood  there  as  though 
they  were  luxuriating  in  the  feel  of  more  water 
than  they  could  drink,  and  one  horse  blew  the  mois- 
ture from  his  nostrils  with  a  sound  that  made 
Happy  Jack  jump. 

After  a  few  minutes  that  seemed  an  hour  to 
those  who  waited  with  fingers  crooked  upon  gun- 
triggers,  the  horse  that  looked  vaguely  like  Johnny 
turned  away  from  the  water-hole  and  sneezed  while 
212 


ONE  PUT  OVER  ON  THE  BUNCH 

he  appeared  to  be  wondering  what  to  do  next.  He 
moved  slowly  toward  the  packs  that  were  thrown 
down  just  where  they  had  been  taken  from  the 
horses,  and  began  nosing  tentatively  about. 

The  others  loitered  still  at  the  water-hole,  save 
one  —  the  buckskin,  by  his  lighter  look  in  the  dark 
—  that  came  over  to  Johnny.  The  two  horses 
nosed  the  packs.  A  dull  sound  of  clashing  metal 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  Happy  Family. 

"  Hey !  Get  outa  that  grain,  doggone  your  fool 
hide,"  Pink  called  out  impulsively,  crawling  over 
his  saddle  and  catching  his  foot  in  the  stirrup 
leather  so  that  he  came  near  going  headlong. 

Applehead  yelled  something,  but  Pink  had  re- 
covered his  balance  and  was  running  to  save  the 
precious  horsefeed  from  waste,  and  Johnny  from 
foundering.  There  might  have  been  two  Indians 
on  every  horse  in  sight,  but  Pink  was  not  thinking 
of  that  possibility  just  then. 

Johnny  whirled  guiltily  away  from  the  grain 
bag,  licking  his  lips  and  blowing  dust  from  his 
nostrils.  Pink  went  up  to  him  and  slipped  a  rope 
around  his  neck.  "  Where's  that  bell  ?  "  he  called 
out  in  his  soft  treble.  "  Or  do  you  think  we  bet- 
213 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ter  tie  the  old  son-of-a-gun  up  and  be  sure  of 
him?" 

"  Aw,"  said  Happy  Jack  disgustedly  a  few  min- 
utes later,  when  the  Happy  Family  had  crawled 
out  of  their  ambush  and  were  feeling  particularly 
foolish.  "  !N"ex'  time  old  granny  Furrman  says 
Injuns  t'  this  bunch,  somebody  oughta  gag  him !  " 

"  I  notice  you  waited  till  he'd  gone  outa  hear- 
ing before  you  said  that,"  Luck  told  him  drily. 
"  We're  going  to  put  out  extra  guards  tonight, 
just  the  same.  And  I  guess  you  can  stand  the 
first  shift,  Happy,  up  there  on  the  ridge  —  you're 
so  sure  of  things !  " 


214 


CHAPTER  5V; 

"  NOW,   DANG   IT,   RIDE  !  " 

INDIANS  are  Indians,  though  they  wear  the 
green  sweater  and  overalls  of  civilization  and 
set  upon  their  black  hair  the  hat  made  famous  by 
John  B.  Stetson.  You  may  meet  them  in  town 
and  think  them  tamed  to  stupidity.  .  You  may 
travel  out  upon  their  reservations  and  find  them 
shearing  sheep  or  hoeing  corn  or  plodding  along 
the  furrow,  plowing  their  fields ;  or  you  may  watch 
them  dancing  grotesquely  in  their  festivals,  and 
still  think  that  civilization  is  fast  erasing  the  sav- 
age instincts  from  their  natures.  You  will  be 
partly  right  —  but  you  will  also  be  partly  mis- 
taken. An  Indian  is  always  an  Indian,  and  a 
Navajo  Indian  carries  a  thinner  crust  of  civiliza- 
tion than  do  some  others;  as  I  am  going  to  illus- 
trate. 

As  you  have  suspected,  the  Happy  Family  was 
not  following  the  trail  of  Ramon  Chavez  and  his 
215 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

band.  Eamon  was  a  good  many  miles  away  in 
another  direction ;  unwittingly  the  Happy  Family 
was  keeping  doggedly  upon  the  trail  of  a  party  of 
renegade  Navajos  who  had  been  out  on  a  thieving 
expedition  among  those  Mexicans  who  live  upon 
the  Eio  Grande  bottomland.  Having  plenty  of 
reasons  for  hurrying  back  to  their  stronghold,  and 
having  plenty  of  lawlessness  to  account  for,  when 
they  realized  that  they  were  being  followed  by 
nine  white  men  who  had  four  packed  horses  with 
them  to  provide  for  their  needs  on  a  long  journey, 
it  was  no  more  than  natural  that  the  Indians  should 
take  it  for  granted  that  they  were  being  pursued, 
and  that  if  they  were  caught  they  would  be  taken 
back  to  town  and  shut  up  in  that  evil  place  which 
the  white  men  called  their  jail. 

When  it  was  known  that  the  nine  men  who  fol- 
lowed had  twice  recovered  the  trail  after  sheep  and 
cattle  had  trampled  it  out,  the  renegades  became 
sufficiently  alarmed  to  call  upon  their  tribesmen 
for  help.  And  that  was  perfectly  natural  and  sen- 
sible from  their  point  of  view. 

!N^ow,  the  Navajos  are  peaceable  enough  if  you 
leave  them  strictly  alone  and  do  not  come  snoop- 
216 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

ing  upon  their  reservation  trying  to  arrest  some- 
body. But  they  don't  like  jails,  and  if  you  persist 
in  trailing  their  lawbreakers  you  are  going  to  have 
trouble  on  your  hands.  The  Happy  Family,  with 
Luck  and  Applehead,  had  no  intention  whatever 
of  molesting  the  Navajos ;  but  the  I^avajos  did  not 
know  that,  and  they  acted  according  to  their  lights 
and  their  ideas  of  honorable  warfare. 

Eoused  to  resistance  in  behalf  of  their  fellows, 
they  straightway  forsook  their  looms,  where  they 
wove  rugs  for  tourists,  and  the  silver  which  they 
fashioned  into  odd  bracelets  and  rings;  and  the 
flocks  of  sheep  whose  wool  they  used  in  the  rugs  — 
and  they  went  upon  a  quiet,  crafty  warpath  against 
these  persistent  white  men. 

They  stole  their  horses  and  started  them  well  on 
the  trail  back  to  Albuquerque  —  since  it  is  just 
as  well  to  keep  within  the  white  men's  law,  if  it 
may  be  done  without  suffering  any  great  incon- 
venience. They  would  have  preferred  to  keep  the 
horses,  but  they  decided  to  start  them  home  and 
let  them  go.  You  could  not  call  that  stealing,  and 
no  one  need  go  to  jail  for  it.  They  failed  to 
realize  that  these  horses  might  be  so  thoroughly 
217 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

broken  to  camp  ways  that  they  would  prefer  the 
camp  of  the  Happy  Family  to  a  long  trail  that 
held  only  a  memory  of  discomfort;  they  did  not 
know  that  every  night  these  horses  were  given 
grain  by  the  camp-fire,  and  that  they  would  re- 
member it  when  feeding  time  came  again.  So  the 
horses,  led  by  wise  old  Johnny,  swung  in  a  large 
circle  when  their  Indian  drivers  left  them,  and 
went  back  to  their  men. 

Then  the  Navajos,  finding  that  simple  ma- 
neuver a  failure  —  and  too  late  to  prevent  its 
failing  without  risk  of  being  discovered  and  forced 
into  an  open  fight  —  got  together  and  tried  some- 
thing else;  something  more  characteristically  In- 
dian and  therefore  more  actively  hostile.  They 
rode  in  haste  that  night  to  a  point  well  out  upon 
the  fresh  trail  of  their  fleeing  tribesmen,  where 
the  tracks  came  out  of  a  barren,  lava-encrusted 
hollow  to  softer  soil  beyond.  They  summoned 
their  squaws  and  their  half-grown  papooses  armed 
with  branches  that  had  stiff  twigs  and  answered 
the  purpose  of  brooms.  With  great  care  about 
leaving  any  betraying  tracks  of  their  own  until  they 
were  quite  ready  to  leave  a  trail,  a  party  was. 
218 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

formed  to  represent  the  six  whom  the  Happy  Fam- 
ily had  been  following.  These  divided  and  made 
off  in  different  directions,  leaving  a  plain  trail 
behind  them  to  lure  the  white  men  into  the  traps 
which  would  be  prepared  for  them  farther  on. 

When  dawn  made  it  possible  to  do  so  effec- 
tively, the  squaws  began  to  whip  out  the  trail  of 
the  six  renegade  Indians,  and  the  chance  foot- 
prints of  those  who  had  gone  ahead  to  leave  the 
false  trail  for  the  white  men  to  follow.  Very 
painstakingly  the  squaws  worked,  and  the  young 
ones  who  could  be  trusted.  Brushing  the  sand 
smoothly  across  a  hoof  print  here,  and  another1 
one  there;  walking  backward,  their  bodies  bent, 
their  sharp  eyes  scanning  every  little  depression, 
every  faint  trace  of  the  passing  of  their  tribes- 
men; brushing,  replacing  pebbles  kicked  aside  by 
a  hoof,  wiping  out  completely  that  trail  which  the 
Happy  Family  had  followed  with  such  persist- 
ence, the  squaws  did  their  part,  while  their  men 
went  on  to  prepare  the  trap. 

Years  ago  —  yet  not  so  many  after  all  —  the 
mothers  of  these  squaws,  and  their  grandmothers, 
had  walked  backward  and  stooped  with  little 
219 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

branches  in  their  hands  to  wipe  out  the  trail  of 
their  warriors  and  themselves  to  circumvent  the 
cunning  of  the  enemy  who  pursued.  Sc  had  they 
brushed  out  the  trail  when  their  men  had  raided 
the  ranches  of  the  first  daring  settlers,  and  had 
driven  off  horses  and  cattle  into  the  remoter  wil- 
derness. 

And  these,  mind  you,  were  the  squaws  and  bucks 
whom  you  might  meet  any  day  on  the  streets  in 
Albuquerque,  padding  along  the  pavement  and 
staring  in  at  the  shop  windows,  admiring  silken 
gowns  with  marked-down  price  tags,  and  exclaim- 
ing over  flaxen-haired  dolls  and  bright  ribbon 
streamers;  squaws  and  bucks  who  brought  rugs 
and  blankets  to  sell,  and  who  would  bargain  with 
you  in  broken  English  and  smile  and  nod  in 
friendly  fashion  if  you  spoke  to  them  in  Spanish 
or  paid  without  bickering  the  price  they  asked  for 
a  rug.  You  might  see  them  in  the  fifteen-cent 
store,  buying  cheap  candy  and  staring  in  mute 
admiration  at  all  the  gay  things  piled  high  on  the 
tables.  Remember  that,  when  I  tell  you  what 
more  they  did  out  here  in  the  wilderness.  Re- 
member that  and  do  not  imagine  that  I  am  trying 
220 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

to  take  you  back  into  the  untamed  days  of  the 
pioneers. 

Luck  and  the  Happy  Family  —  so  well  had  the 
squaws  done  their  work  —  passed  unsuspectingly 
over  the  wiped-out  trail,  circled  at  fault  on  the  far 
side  of  the  rocky  gulch  for  an  hour  or  so  and  then 
found  the  false  trail  just  as  the  Indian  decoys  had 
intended  that  they  should  do.  And  from  a  farther 
flat  topped  ridge  a  group  of  Indians  with  Dutch 
hair-cuts  and  Stetson  hats  and  moccasins  (the  two 
hall-marks  of  two  races)  watched  them  take  the 
false  trail,  and  looked  at  one  another  and  grinned 
sourly. 

The  false  trail  forked,  showing  that  the  six  had 
separated  into  two  parties  of  three  riders,  each 
aiming  to  pass  —  so  the  hoofprints  would  lead  one 
to  believe  —  around  the  two  ends  of  a  lone  hill  that 
sat  squarely  down  on  the  mesa  like  a  stone  treas- 
ure chest  dropped  there  by  the  gods  when  the  world 
was  young. 

The  Happy  Family  drew  rein  and  eyed  the 
parting  of  the  ways  dubiously. 

"  Wonder  what  they  did  that  for  ?  "  Andy  Green 
221 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

grumbled,  mopping  his  red  face  irritatedly. 
"  We've  got  trouble  enough  without  having  them 
split  up  on  us." 

"  From  the  looks,  I  should  say  we're  overhaul- 
ing the  bunch,"  Luck  hazarded.  "  They  maybe 
met  on  the  other  side  of  this  butte  somewhere. 
And  the  tracks  were  made  early  this  morning,  I 
should  say.  How  about  it,  Applehead  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  look  fresher  'n  what  we  bin  fol- 
lerin'  before,"  Applehead  admitted.  "  But  I 
don't  like  this  here  move  uh  theirn,  and  I'm  tellin' 
yuh  so.  The  way  — " 

"  I  don't  like  anything  about  'em,"  snapped 
Luck,  standing  in  his  stirrups  as  though  that  extra 
three  inches  would  let  him  see  over  the  hill. 
"And  I  don't  like  this  tagging  along  behind, 
either.  You  take  your  boys  and  follow  those 
tracks  to  the  right,  Applehead.  I  and  my  bunch 
will  go  this  other  way.  And  ride!  We  can't  be 
so  awfully  much  behind.  If  they  meet,  we'll  meet 
where  they  do.  If  they  scatter,  we'll  have  to  scat- 
ter too,  I  reckon.  But  get  'em  is  the  word,  boys !  " 

"And  where,"  asked  Applehead  with  heavy 
irony,  while  he  pulled  at  his  mustache,  "  do  yuh 
222 


calc'late  we'll  git  together  agin  if  we  go  scatterin' 
out  ? " 

Luck  looked  at  him  and  smiled  his  smile.  "  We 
aren't  any  of  us  tenderfeet,  exactly,"  he  said 
calmly.  "We'll  meet  at  the  jail  when  we  bring 
in  our  men,  if  we  don't  meet  anywhere  else  this 
side.  But  if  you  land  your  men,  come  back  to 
that  camp  where  we  lost  the  horses.  That's  one 
place  we  Tcnow  has  got  grass  and  water  both.  If 
you  come  and  don't  see  any  sign  of  us,  wait  a  day 
before  you  start  back  to  town.  We'll  do  the  same. 
And  leave  a  note  anchored  in  the  crack  of  that  big 
bowlder  by  the  spring,  telling  the  news.  We'll 
do  the  same  if  we  get  there  first  and  don't  wait  for 
you."  He  hesitated,  betraying  that  even  in  his 
eagerness  he  too  dreaded  the  parting  of  the  ways. 
"Well,  so  long,  boys  —  take  care  of  your- 
selves." 

"  Well,  now,  I  ain't  so  dang  shore  — "  Apple- 
head  began  querulously. 

But  Luck  only  grinned  and  waved  his  hand  as 

he  led  the  way  to  the  south  on  the  trail  that 

obviously  had  skirted  the  side  of  the  square  butte. 

The  four  who  went  with  him  looked  back  and 

223 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

waved  non-committal  adieu;  and  Big  Medicine, 
once  he  was  fairly  away,  shouted  back  to  them  to 
look  out  for  Navvies,  and  then  laughed  with  a 

^mirthless  uproar  that  deceived  no  one  into  think- 
ing he  was  amused.  Pink  and  Weary  raised  their 
voices  sufficiently  to  tell  him  where  he  could  go, 
and  settled  themselves  dejectedly  in  their  saddles 
again. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  so  darned  sure,  either,"  Lite 
Avery  tardily  echoed  Applehead's  vague  statement, 
in  the  dry  way  he  had  of  speaking  detached  senti- 
ments from  the  mental  activities  that  went  on 
behind  his  calm,  mask-like  face  and  his  quiet  eyes. 
"  Something  feels  snaky  around  here  today." 

Applehead  looked  at  him  with  a  glimmer  of 
relief  in  his  eyes,  but  he  did  not  reply  to  the  fore- 
boding directly.  "  Boys,  git  yore  rifles  where  you 
kin  use  'em  quick,"  he  advised  them  grimly.  "  I 
kin  smell  shootin'  along  this  dang  trail." 

ri  Pink's  dimples  showed  languidly  for  a  moment, 
and  he  looked  a  question  at  Weary.  Weary 
grinned  answer  and  pulled  his  rifle  from  the 
"  boot "  where  it  was  slung  under  his  right  leg, 
and  jerked  the  lever  forward  until  a  cartridge 
224 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

slid  with  a  click  up  into  the  chamber ;  let  the  ham- 
mer gently  down  with  his  thumb  and  laid  the  gun 
across  his  thighs. 

"  She's  ready  for  bear,"  he  observed  placidly. 

"  Well,  now,  you  boys  show  some  kinda  sense," 
Applehead  told  them  when  Pink  had  followed 
Weary's  example.  "  Fellers  like  Happy  and  Bud, 
they  shore  do  show  their  ign'rance  uh  this  here 
dang  country,  when  they  up  V  laff  at  the  idee  uh 
trouble  —  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

From  the  ridge  which  wras  no  more  than  a  high 
claw  of  the  square  butte,  four  Indians  in  greasy, 
gray  Stetsons  with  flat  crowns  nodded  with  grim 
satisfaction,  and  then  made  haste  to  point  the  toes 
of  their  moccasins  down  to  where  their  unkempt 
ponies  stood  waiting.  They  were  too  far  away  to 
see  the  shifting  of  rifles  to  the  laps  of  the  riders, 
or  perhaps  they  would  not  have  felt  quite  so  satis- 
fied with  the  steady  advance  of  the  four  who  had 
taken  the  right-hand  fork  of  the  trail.  They  could 
not  even  tell  just  which  four  men  made  up  the 
party.  They  did  not  greatly  care,  so  long  as  the 
force  of  the  white  men  was  divided.  They  gal- 
loped away  upon  urgent  business  of  their  own, 
225 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

elated  because  their  ruse  had  worked  out  as  they 
had  planned  and  hoped. 

Applehead  took  a  restrained  pull  at  the  canteen, 
cocked  his  eyes  back  at  the  butte  they  had  just 
passed,  squinted  ahead  over  the  flat  waste  that 
shimmered  with  heat  to  the  very  skyline  that  was 
notched  and  gashed  crudely  with  more  barren  hills, 
and  then,  screwing  the  top  absent-mindedly  on  the 
canteen-mouth,  leaned  and  peered  long  at  the  hoof- 
prints  they  were  following.  Beside  him  Lite 
Avery,  tall  and  lean  to  the  point  of  being  skinny, 
followed  his  movements  with  quiet  attention  and 
himself  took  to  studying  more  closely  the  hoof- 
prints  in  the  sandy  soil. 

Applehead  looked  up,  gauged  the  probable  di- 
rection the  trail  was  taking,  and  gave  a  grunt. 

"  You  kin  call  me  a  fool,"  he  said  with  a  certain 
challenge  in  his  tone,  "  but  this  yere  trail  don't 
look  good  to  me,  somehow.  These  yere  tracks, 
they  don't  size  up  the  same  as  they  done  all  the 
way  out  here.  ?N'  another  thing,  they  ain't  aimed 
t'  meet  up  with  the  bunch  that  Luck's,  trailin'. 
We're  headed  straight  out  away  from  whar  Luck's 
headed.  'N'  any  way  yuh  look  at  it,  we're  headed 
226 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

into  country  whar  there  ain't  no  more  water'n 
what  the  rich  man  got  in  hell.  What  would  any 
nh  Ramon's  outfit  want  to  come  away  off  in  here 
fur  ?  They  ain't  nothin'  up  in  here  to  call  'em." 

"  These,"  said  Lite  suddenly,  "  are  different 
horse-tracks.  They're  smaller,  for  one  thing. 
The  bunch  we  followed  out  from  the  red  machine 
rode  bigger  horses." 

"  And  carried  honey  on  one  side  and  fresh  meat 
on  the  other ;  and  one  horse  was  blind  in  the  right 
eye,"  enlarged  Pink  banteringly,  remembering  the 
story  of  the  Careful  Observer  in  an  old  school- 
reader  of  his  childhood  days. 

"  Yes,  how  do  you  make  that  out,  Lite  ?  I  never 
noticed  any  difference  in  the  tracks." 

"  The  stride  is  a  little  shorter  today  for  one 
thing."  Lite  looked  around  and  grinned  at  Pink, 
as  though  he  too  remembered  the  dromedary  loaded 
with  honey  and  meat.  "  Ain't  it,  Applehead  ?  " 

"  It  shore  is,"  Applehead  testified,  his  face  bent 
toward  the  hot  ground.  "  Ain't  ary  one  uh  the 
three  that  travels  like  they  bin  a  travelin' — V  that 
shore  means  something,  now  I'm  tell  in'  yuh !  " 
He  straightened  and  stared  worriedly  ahead  of 
227 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

them  again.  "  Uh  course,  they  might  a  picked  up 
fresh  horses,"  he  admitted.  "  I  calc'late  they 
needed  'em  bad  enough,  if  they  ain't  been  grainin' 
their  own  on  the  trip." 

"  We  didn't  see  any  signs  of  their  horses  being 
turned  loose  anywhere  along,"  Lite  pointed  out 
with  a  calm  confidence  that  he  was  right. 

Still,  they  followed  the  footprints  even  though 
they  were  beginning  to  admit  with  perfect  frank- 
ness their  uneasiness.  They  were  swinging  gradu- 
ally toward  one  of  those  isolated  humps  of  red  rock- 
ridges  which  you  will  find  scattered  at  random 
through  certain  parts  of  the  southwest.  Perhaps 
they  held  some  faint  hope  that  what  lay  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ridge  would  be  more  promising, 
just  as  we  all  find  ourselves  building  air-castles 
upon  what  lies  just  over  the  horizon  which  divides 
present  facts  from  future  possibilities.  Besides, 
these  flat-faced  ledges  frequently  formed  a  sharp 
dividing  line  between  barren  land  and  fertile,  and 
the,  hoof  prints  led  that  way;  so  it  was  with  a  tacit 
understanding  that  they  would  see  what  lay  beyond 
the  ridge  that  they  rode  forward. 

Suddenly  Applehead,  eyeing  the  rocks  specu- 
228 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

latively,  turned  his  head  suddenly  to  look  behind 
and  to  either  side  like  one  who  seeks  a  way  of 
escape  from  sudden  peril. 

"  Don't  make  no  quick  moves,  boys,"  he  said, 
waving  one  gloved  hand  nonchalantly  toward  the 
flat  land  from  which  they  were  turning,  "  but  f oiler 
my  lead  'n'  angle  down  into  that  draw  off  here. 
Mebbe  it's  deep  enough  to  put  us  outa  sight,  V 
mebbe  it  ain't.  But  we'll  try  it." 

"  What's  up  ?  What  did  yuh  see  ?  "  Pink  and 
Weary  spoke  in  a  duet,  urging  their  horses  a  little 
closer. 

"You  fellers  keep  back  thar  'n'  don't  act  ex- 
cited ! "  Applehead  eyed  them  sternly  over  his 
shoulder.  "  I  calc'late  we're  just  about  t'  walk 
into  a  trap."  He  bent  —  on  the  side  away  from 
the  ridge  —  low  over  his  horse's  shoulder  and  spoke 
while  he  appeared  to  be  scanning  the  ground.  "  I 
seen  gun-shine  up  among  them  rocks,  er  I'm  a  goat. 
'N"'  if  it's  ISTavvies,  you  kin  bet  they  got  guns  as 
good  as  ours,  and  kin  shoot  mighty  nigh  as  straight 
as  the  best  of  us  —  except  Lite,  uh  course,  that's  a 
expert."  He  pointed  aimlessly  at  the  ground  and 
edged  toward  the  draw. 

229 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Ef  they  think  we're  jest  follerin'  a  stray  track, 
they'll  likely  hold  off  till  we  git  back  in  the  trail  V 
start  comin'  on  agin,"  he  explained  craftily,  still 
pointing  at  the  ground  ahead  of  him  and  still  urg- 
ing his  horse  to  the  draw.  "  Ef  they  suspicion  't 
we're  shyin'  off  from  the  ridge,  they'll  draw  a  fine 
bead  V  cut  loose.  I  knowed  it,"  he  added  with  a 
lugubrious  complacency.  "  I  told  ye  all  day  that 
I  could  smell  trouble  a-comin' ;  I  knowed  dang  well 
't  we'd  stir  up  a  mess  uh  fightin'  over  here.  I 
never  come  onto  this  dang  res'vation  yit,  that  I 
didn't  have  t'  kill  off  a  mess  uh  Navvies  before  I 
got  offen  it  agin. 

"  ISTow,"  he  said  when  they  reached  the  edge  of 
the  sandy  depression  that  had  been  gouged  deeper 
by  freshets  and  offered  some  shelter  in  case  of  at- 
tack, "  you  boys  jest  fool  around  here  on  the  aidge 
'n'  foller  me  down  here  like  you  was  jest  curious- 
like  over  what  I'm  locatin'.  That'll  keep  them 
babies  up  there  guessin'  till  we're  all  outa  sight  — 
meHbyl"  He  pulled  down  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  till  his  mustache-ends  dropped  a  full  inch, 
and  lifted  himself  off  his  horse  with  a  bored  de- 
liberation that  was  masterly  in  its  convincingness. 
230 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

He  stood  looking  at  the  ground  for  a  moment  and 
then  began  to  descend  leisurely  into  the  draw,  lead- 
ing his  horse  behind  him. 

"  You  go  next,  Pink,"  Weary  said  shortly,  and 
with  his  horse  began  edging  him  closer  to  the  bank 
until  Pink,  unless  he  made  some  unwise  demon- 
stration of  unwillingness,  was  almost  forced  to  ride 
down  the  steep  little  slope. 

"  Don't  look  towards  the  ridge,  boys,"  Applehead 
warned  from  below.  "  Weary,  you  come  on  down 
here  next.  Lite  kin  might'  nigh  shoot  the  dang 
triggers  often  their  guns  'fore  they  kin  pull,  if 
they  go  t'  work  'n'  start  anything." 

So  Weary,  leaving  Lite  up  there  grinning  sheep- 
ishly over  the  compliment,  rode  down  because  he 
was  told  to  do  so  by  the  man  in  command.  "  You 
seem  to  forget  that  Lite's  got  a  wife  on  his  hands," 
he  reproved  as  he  went. 

"  Lite's  a-comin'  right  now,"  Applehead  retorted, 
peering  at  the  ridge  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant. "  Git  back  down  the  draw  's  fur's  yuh  kin 
b'fore  yuh  take  out  into  the  open  agin.  I'll  wait 
a  minute  'n'  see  — " 

"  ~Ping-ng-ng !  "  a  bullet,  striking  a  rock  on  the 
231 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

edge  of  the  draw  fifty  feet  short  of  the  mark, 
glanced  and  went  humming  over  the  hot  waste. 

"  Well,  now,  that  shows  they  got  a  lookout  up 
high,  't  seen  me  watchin'  that  way.  But  it's  hard' 
t'  git  the  range  shootin'  down,  like  that,"  Apple- 
head  remarked,  pulling  his  horse  behind  a  higher 
part  of  the  bank. 

Close  beside  him  Lite's  rifle  spoke,  its  little  steel- 
shod  message  flying  straight  as  a  homing  honey- 
bee for  the  spitting  flash  he  had  glimpsed  up  there 
among  the  rocks.  Whether  he  did  any  damage  or 
not,  a  dozen  rifles  answered  venomously  and  flicked 
up  tiny  spurts  of  sand  in  the  close  neighborhood 
of  the  four. 

"  If  they  keep  on  trying,"  Lite  commented  drily, 
"  they  might  make  a  killing,  soon  as  they  learn  how 
to  shoot  straight." 

"  'S  jest  like  them  dang  Injuns !  "  Applehead 
grumbled,  shooing  the  three  before  him  down  the 
draw.  "  Four  t'  our  one  —  it  takes  jest  about  that 
big  a  majority  'fore  they  feel  comf'table  about 
buildin'  up  a  fight.  Lead  yore  bosses  down  till 
we're  outa  easy  shootin'  distance,  boys,  'n'  then 
we'll  head  out  f  er  where  Luck  ought  t'  be.  If  they 
232 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

fixed  a  trap  fer  us,  they've  fixed  another  fer  him, 
chances  is,  V  the  sooner  us  fellers  git  together  the 
better  show  we'll  all  of  us  have.  You  kin  see,  the 
fway  they  worked  it  to  split  the  bunch,  that  they 
ain't  so  dang  anxious  t'  tie  into  us  when  we're 
t'gether — V  that's  why  we  can't  git  t'  Luck  a 
dang  bit  too  soon,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

Weary  and  Pink  were  finding  things  to  say,  also, 
but  old  Applehead  went  on  with  his  monologue 
just  as  though  they  were  listening.  Lite  showed  a 
disposition  to  stop  and  take  issue  with  the  shooters, 
who  kept  up  a  spiteful  firing  from  the  ridge.  But 
Applehead  stopped  him  as  he  was  leveling  his  rifle. 

"  If  yuh  shoot,"  he  pointed  out,  "  they'll  know 
jest  where  we  air  and  how  fast  we're  gittin'  outa 
here.  If  yuh  don't,  unless  their  lookout  kin  see 
us  movin'  out,  they  got  t'  do  a  heap  uh  guessin'  in 
the  next  few  minutes.  They  only  got  one  chancet 
in  three  uh  guessin'  right,  'cause  we  might  be 
camped  in  one  spot,  'n'  then  agin  we  might  be 
crawlin'  up  closer,  fer  all  they  kin  tell." 

If  they  were  guessing,  they  must  have  guessed 
right ;  for  presently  the  four  heard  faint  yells  from 
behind  them,  and  Applehead  crawled  up  the  bank 
233 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

to  where  he  could  look  out  across  the  level.  What 
he  saw  made  him  slide  hastily  to  the  bottom  again. 

"  They've  dumb  down  and  straddled  their 
ponies,"  he  announced  grimly.  "  An'  about  a 
dozen  is  comin'  down  this  way,  keepin'  under  cover 
all  they  kin.  I  calculate  mebby  we  better  crawl 
our  hosses  'n'  do  some  ridin'  ourselves,  boys." 
And  he  added  grimly,  "  They  ain't  in  good  shootin' 
distance  yit,  V  they  dassent  show  theirselves 
neither.  We'll  keep  in  this  draw  long  as  we  kin. 
They're  bound  t'  come  careful  till  they  git  us 
located." 

The  footing  was  none  the  best,  but  the  horses 
they  rode  had  been  running  over  untracked  mesa- 
land  since  they  were  bandy-legged  colts.  They 
loped  along  easily,  picking  automatically  the  safest 
places  whereon  to  set  their  feet,  and  leaving  their 
riders  free  to  attend  to  other  important  matters  — 
which  proved  their  true  value  as  horses  that  knew 
their  business. 

Soon  the  draw  shallowed  until  they  found  them- 
selves out  in  the  open,  with  the  square-topped  moun- 
tain five  miles  or  so  ahead  and  a  little  to  the  left ; 
a  high,  untraversable  sandstone  ledge  to  their  right, 
234 


"NOW,  DANG  IT,  RIDE!" 

and  what  looked  like  plain  sailing  straight  ahead 
past  the  mountain. 

Applehead  twisted  his  body  in  the  saddle  and 
gave  a  grunt.  "  Throw  some  lead  back  at  them 
hombres,  Lite,"  he  snapped.  "  And  make  a  killin* 
if  yuh  kin.  It'll  make  'em  mad,  but  it'll  hold  'em 
back  fer  a  spell." 

Lite,  the  crack  rifle-shot  of  Luck's  company  and 
the  man  who  had  taught  Jean  Douglas  to  shoot 
with  such  wonderful  precision,  wheeled  his  horse 
short  around  and  pulled  him  to  a  stand,  lined  up 
his  rifle  sights  and  crooked  his  finger  on  the  trigger. 
And  away  back  there  among  the  Indians  a  pony 
reared,  and  then  pitched  forward. 

"  I  sure  do  hate  to  shoot  down  a  horse,"  Lite 
explained  shamefacedly,  "  but  I  never  did  kill  a 
man  — " 

"  We-ell,  I  calc'late  mebby  yuh  will,  'fore  you're 
let  out  from  this  yere  meetin',"  Applehead  proph- 
esied drily.  "  Now,  dang  it,  ride  !  " 


235 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ANNIE-MANT-PONIES    \TAIT9 

IN  the  magic  light  of  many  unnamable  soft 
shades  which  the  sun  leaves  in  New  Mexico  as 
a  love  token  for  his  dark  mistress  night,  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  sat  with  her  back  against  a  high,  flat 
rock  at  the  place  where  Ramon  had  said  she  must 
wait  for  him,  and  stared  somber-eyed  at  what  she 
could  see  of  the  new  land  that  had  held  her  future 
behind  the  Sandias;  waiting  for  Ramon;  and  she 
wondered  if  Wagalexa  Conka  had  come  home  from 
his  picture-making  in  Bear  Canon  and  was  angry 
because  she  had  gone ;  and  shrank  from  the  thought, 
and  tried  to  picture  what  life  with  Ramon  would 
be  like,  and  whether  his  love  would  last  beyond  the 
wide  ring  of  shiny  gold  that  was  to  make  her  a 
wife. 

At  her  feet  the  little  black  dog  lay  licking  his 
sore  paws  that  had  padded  patiently  after  her  all 
day.     Beside  the  rock  the  black  horse  stood  nib- 
236 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

Wing  at  some  weeds  awkwardly,  because  of  the 
Spanish  bit  in  his  mouth.  The  horse  was  hungry, 
and  the  little  black  dog  was  hungry ;  Aimie-Many- 
Ponies  was  hungry  also,  but  she  did  not  feel  her 
hunger  so  much,  because  of  the  heaviness  that  was 
in  her  heart. 

When  Ramon  came  he  would  bring  food,  or  he 
would  tell  her  where  she  might  buy.  The  horse, 
too,  would  be  fed  —  when  Eamon  came.  And  he 
would  take  her  to  the  priest  who  was  his  friend,  and 
together  they  would  kneel  before  the  priest.  But 
first,  if  Eamon  would  wait,  she  wanted  to  confess 
her  sins,  so  that  she  need  not  go  into  the  new  life 
bearing  the  sins  of  the  old.  The  priest  could  pray 
away  the  ache  that  was  in  her  heart;  and  then, 
with  her  heart  light  as  air,  she  would  be  married 
with  Ramon.  It  was  long  since  she  had  confessed 
—  not  since  the  priest  came  to  the  agency  when  she 
was  there,  before  she  ran  away  to  work  in  pictures 
for  Wagalexa  Conka. 

Before  her  the  glow  deepened  and  darkened.     A 

rabbit  hopped  out  of  a  thick  clump  of  stunted 

bushes,  sniffed  the  air  that  blew  the  wrong  way  to 

warn  him,  and  began  feeding.     Shunka  Chistala 

237 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

gathered  his  soft  paws  under  him,  scratched  softly 
for  a  firm  foothold  in  the  ground,  and  when  the 
rabbit,  his  back  turned  and  the  evening  wind  blow- 
ing full  in  his  face,  fed  unsuspectingly  upon  some 
young  bark  that  he  liked,  the  little  black  dog 
launched  himself  suddenly  across  Jhe  space  that 
divided  them.  There  was  a  squeak  and  a  thin, 
whimpering  crying  —  and  the  little  black  dog,  at 
least,  was  sure  of  his  supper. 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  roused  from  her  brooding, 
shivered  a  little  when  the  rabbit  cried.  She 
started  forward  to  save  it  —  she  who  had  taught 
the  little  black  dog  to  hunt  gophers  and  prairie 
dogs !  —  and  when  she  was  too  late  she  scolded  the 
dog  in  the  language  of  the  Sioux.  She  tore  the 
rabbit  away  from  him  while  he  eyed  her  reproach- 
fully; but  when  she  saw  that  it  was  quite  dead 
she  flung  the  warm  body  back  to  him  and  went  and 
sat  down  again  with  her  back  to  the  rock. 

A  train  whistled  for  the  little  station  of  Ber- 
nalillo,  and  soon  she  saw  its  headlight  paint  the 
squat  houses  that  had  before  been  hidden  behind 
the  creeping  dusk.  Ramon  was  late  in  coming  — 
and  for  one  breath  she  caught  herself  hoping  that 
238 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAI1S 

he  would  not  come  at  all.  But  immediately  she 
remembered  the  love  words  he  had  taught  her,  and 
smiled  her  inscrutable  little  smile  that  had  now  a 
tinge  of  sadness.  Perhaps,  she  thought  wishfully, 
Ramon  had  come  on  the  train  from  Albuquerque. 
Perhaps  he  had  a  horse  in  the  town,  and  would 
ride  out  and  meet  her  here  where  he  had  told  her 
to  wait. 

The  train  shrieked  and  painted  swiftly  hill  and 
embankment  and  little  adobe  huts  and  a  corral  full 
of  huddled  sheep,  and  went  churning  away  to  the 
northeast.  Annie-Many-Ponies  followed  its  course 
absently  with  her  eyes  until  the  last  winking  light 
from  its  windows  and  the  last  wisp  of  smoke  was 
hidden  behind  hills  and  trees.  The  little  black 
dog  finished  the  rabbit,  nosed  its  tracks  back  to 
where  it  had  hopped  out  of  the  brush,  and  came 
back  and  curled  up  at  the  feet  of  his  mistress,  lick- 
ing his  lips  and  again  his  travel-sore  paws.  In  a 
moment,  feeling  in  his  dumb  way  her  loneliness, 
perhaps,  he  reached  up  and  laid  his  pink  tongue 
caressingly  upon  her  brown  hand. 

Dark  came  softly  and  with  it  a  noisy  wind  that 
whistled  and  murmured  and  at  last,  growing  more 
239 


boisterous  as  the  night  deepened,  whooped  over  her 
head  and  tossed  wildly  the  branches  of  a  clump  of 
trees  that  grew  near.  Annie-Many-Ponies  listened 
to  the  wind  and  thought  it  a  brother,  perhaps,  of 
the  night  wind  that  came  to  the  Dakota  prairies 
and  caroused  there  until  dawn  bade  it  be  still. 
Too  red  the  blood  of  her  people  ran  in  her  veins 
for  her  to  be  afraid  of  the  night,  even  though  she 
peopled  it  with  dim  shapes  of  her  fancy. 

After  a  long  while  the  wind  grew  chill.  Annie- 
Many-Ponies  shivered,  and  then  rose  and  went  to 
the  horse  and,  reaching  into  the  bundle  which  was 
still  bound  to  the  saddle,  she  worked  a  plaid  shawl 
loose  from  the  other  things  and  pulled  it  out  and 
wrapped  it  close  around  her  and  pulled  it  over  her 
head  like  a  cowl.  Then  she  went  back  and  sat 
down  against  the  bowlder,  waiting,  with  the  sub- 
lime patience  of  her  kind,  for  Ramon. 

Until  the  wind  hushed,  listening  for  the  dawm, 

j  she  sat  there  and  waited.     At  her  feet  the  little 

black  dog  slept  with  his  nose  folded  between  his 

front  paws  over  which  he  whimpered  sometimes 

in  his  dreams.     At  every  little  sound  all  through 

the  night  Annie-Many-Ponies  had  listened,  think- 

240 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

ing  that  at  last  here  came  Eamon  to  take  her  to  the 
priest,  but  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  stolen 
out  on  the  mesa  to  meet  him,  Ramon  did  not  keep 
the  tryst  —  and  this  was  to  be  their  marriage  meet- 
ing! Annie-Many-Ponies  grew  very  still  and 
voiceless  in  her  heart,  as  if  her  very  soul  waited. 
She  did  not  even  speculate  upon  what  the  future 
would  be  like  if  Eamon  never  came.  She  was 
waiting. 

Then,  just  before  the  sky  lightened,  someone 
stepped  cautiously  along  a  little  path  that  led 
through  rocks  and  bushes  back  into  the  hills. 
Annie-Many  Ponies  turned  her  face  that  way  and 
listened.  But  the  steps  were  not  the  steps  of 
Eamon;  Annie-Many-Ponies  had  too  much  of  the 
Indian  keenness  to  be  fooled  by  the  hasty  footsteps 
of  this  man.  And  since  it  was  not  Eamon  —  her 
slim  fingers  closed  upon  the  keen-edged  knife  she 
carried  always  in  its  sinew-sewed  buckskin  sheath 
near  her  heart. 

The  little  black  dog  lifted  his  head  suddenly  and 
growled,  and  the  footsteps  came  to  a  sudden  stop 
quite  near  the  rock. 

"  It  is  you  ? "  asked  a  cautious  voice  with  the 
241 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

unmistakable  Mexican  tone  and  soft,  slurring  ac- 
cent. "  Speak  me  what  yoh  name." 

"  Eamon  comes  ? "  Annie  asked  him  quietly, 
and  the  footsteps  came  swiftly  nearer  until  his 
form  was  silhouetted  by  the  rock. 

"  Sh-sh  —  yoh  not  spik  dat  name,"  he  whis- 
pered. "  Luis  Eojas  me.  I  come  for  breeng  yoh. 
No  can  come,  yoh  man.  No  spik  name  —  som'- 
bodys  maybe  hears." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  rose  and  stood  peering  at 
him  through  the  dark.  "  What's  wrong  ? "  she 
asked  abruptly,  borrowing  the  curt  phrase  from 
Luck  Lindsay.  "  Why  I  not  speak  name  ?  Why 
—  some  body  —  ? "  she  laid  ironical  stress  upon 
the  word  — "  not  come  ?  What  business  you  got, 
Luis  Rojas  ? " 

"  "No  —  don'  spik  names,  me !  "  The  figure  was 
seen  to  throw  out  an  imploring  hand.  "Moch 
troubles,  yoh  bet!  Yoh  come  now  —  somebodys 
she  wait  in  dam-hurry !  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  with  her  fingers  still  closed 

upon  the  bone  handle  of  her  sharp-edged  knife, 

thought  swiftly.     Wariness  had  been  born  into 

her  blood  —  therefore  she  could  understand  and 

242 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

meet  halfway  the  wariness  of  another.  Perhaps 
Wagalexa  Conka  had  suspected  that  she  was  going 
with  Ramon ;  Wagalexa  Conka  was  very  keen,  and 
his  anger  blazed  hot  as  pitch-pine  flame.  Perhaps 
Ramon  feared  Wagalexa  Conka  —  as  she,  too, 
feared  him.  She  was  not  afraid  —  she  would  go 
to  Eamon. 

She  stepped  away  from  the  rock  and  took  the 
black  horse  by  its  dropped  bridle-reins  and  followed 
Luis  Eojas  up  the  dim  path  that  wound  through 
trees  and  rocks  until  it  dropped  into  a  little  ravine 
that  was  chocked  with  brush,  so  that  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  had  to  put  the  stiff  branches  aside  with  her 
hand  lest  they  scratch  her  face  as  she  passed. 

Luis  went  swiftly  along  the  path,  as  though  his 
haste  was  great ;  but  he  went  stealthily  as  well,  and 
she  knew  that  he  had  some  unknown  cause  for 
secrecy.  She  wondered  a  little  at  this.  Had 
Wagalexa  Conka  discovered  where  she  and  Eamon 
were  to  meet  ?  But  how  could  he  discover  that 
which  had  been  spoken  but  once,  and  then  in  the 
quiet  loneliness  of  that  place  far  back  on  the  mesa  ? 
Wagalexa  Conka  had  not  been  within  three  miles 
of  that  place,  as  Annie-Many-Ponies  knew  well. 
243 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

How  then  did  he  know?  For  he  must  have  fol- 
lowed, since  Eamon  dared  not  come  to  the  place  he 
had  named  for  their  meeting. 

Dawn  came  while  they  were  still  following  the 
little,  brush-choked  ravine  with  its  faint  pathway 
up  the  middle  of  it,  made  by  cattle  or  sheep  or 
goats,  perhaps  all  three.  Luis  hurried  along,  stop- 
ping now  and  then  and  holding  up  a  hand  for 
silence  so  that  he  might  listen.  Fast  as  he  went, 
Annie-Many-Ponies  kept  within  two  long  steps  of 
his  heels,  her  plaid  shawl  drawn  smoothly  over  her 
black  head  and  folded  together  under  her  chin. 
Her  mouth  was  set  in  a  straight  line,  and  her  chin 
had  the  square  firmness  of  the  Indian.  Luis,  look- 
ing back  at  her  curiously,  could  not  even  guess  at 
her  thoughts,  but  he  thought  her  too  calm  and  cold 
for  his  effervescent  nature  —  though  he  would 
have  liked  to  tell  her  that  she  was  beautiful.  He 
did  not,  because  he  was  afraid  of  Ramon. 

"  Poco  tiempo,  come  to  his  camp,  Ramon,"  hel 
said  when  the  sun  was  peering  over  the  high  shoul- 
der of  a  ridge ;  and  he  spoke  in  a  hushed  tone,  as 
if  he  feared  that  someone  might  overhear  him. 

"  You    'iraid    Wagalexa    Conka,    he    come  ? " 
244 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

Annie-Many-Ponies  asked  abruptly,  looking  at  him 
full. 

Luis  did  not  understand  her,  so  he  lifted  his 
shoulders  in  the  Mexican  gesture  which  may  mean 
much  or  nothing.  "  Quien  sabe  ?  "  he  muttered 
vaguely  and  went  on.  Annie-Many-Ponies  did 
not  know  what  he  meant,  but  she  guessed  that  he 
did  not  want  to  be  questioned  upon  the  subject; 
so  she  readjusted  the  shawl  that  had  slipped  from 
her  head  and  went  on  silently,  two  long  steps  be- 
hind him. 

In  a  little  he  turned  from  the  ravine,  which  was 
becoming  more  open  and  not  quite  so  deep.  They 
scrambled  over  boulders  which  the  horse  must  ne- 
gotiate carefully  to  avoid  a  broken  leg,  and  then 
they  were  in  another  little  ravine,  walled  round 
with  rocks  and  high,  brushy  slopes.  Luis  went  a 
little  way,  stopped  beside  a  huge,  jutting  boulder 
and  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  dismay. 

"  No  more  here,  Eamon,"  he  said,  staring  down 
at  the  faintly  smoking  embers  of  a  little  fire. 
"  She's  go  som'  place,  I  don't  know,  me." 

The  slim  right  hand  of  Annie-Many-Ponies  went 
instinctively  to  her  bosom  and  to  what  lay  hidden 
245 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

there.  But  she  waited,  looking  from  the  little 
campfire  that  was  now  almost  dead,  to  Luis  whom 
she  suspected  of  treachery.  Luis  glanced  up  at 
her  apologetically,  caught  something  of  menace  in 
that  unwinking,  glittering  stare,  and  began  hastily 
searching  here  and  there  for  some  sign  that  would 
enlighten  him  further. 

"  She's  here  when  I  go,  Ramon,"  he  explained 
deprecatingly.  "  I  don'  un'stan',  me.  She's  tell 
me  go  breeng  yoh  thees  place.  She's  say  I  mus* 
huree  w'ile  dark  she's  las'.  I'm  sure  s'prised, 
me !  "  Luis  was  a  slender  young  man  with  a  thin, 
patrician  face  that  had  certain  picture  values  for 
Luck,  but  which  greatly  belied  his  lawless  nature. 
Until  he  stood  by  the  rock  where  she  had  waited  for 
Ramon,  Annie-Many-Ponies  had  never  spoken  to 
him.  She  did  not  know  him,  therefore  she  did  not 
trust  him  —  and  she  looked  her  distrust. 

Luis  turned  from  her  after  another  hasty  glance, 
and  began  searching  for  some  sign  of  Ramon. 
Presently,  in  a  tiny  cleft  near  the  top  of  the 
boulder,  his  black  eyes  spied  a  folded  paper  — 
two  folded  papers,  as  he  discovered  when  he 
reached  up  eagerly  and  pulled  them  out. 
246 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

"  She's  write  letter,  Bamon,"  he  cried  with  a 
certain  furtive  excitement.  "  Thees  for  yoh.'' 
And  he  smiled  while  he  gave  her  a  folded  note  with 
"  Ana  "  scrawled  hastily  across  the  face  of  it. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  extended  her  left  hand  for 
it,  and  backed  the  few  steps  away  from  him  which 
would  insure  her  safety  against  a  sudden  attack, 
before  she  opened  the  paper  and  read : 

"  Querida  mia,  you  go  with  Luis.  Hes  all  rite 
you  trus  him.  He  bring  you  where  i  am.  i  lov 
you. 

"  EAMON." 

She  read  it  twice  and  placed  the  note  in  her 
bosom  —  next  the  knife  —  and  looked  at  Luis,  the 
glitter  gone  from  her  eyes.  She  smiled  a  little. 
"  I  awful  hongry,"  she  said  in  her  soft  voice,  and  it 
was  the  second  sentence  she  had  spoken  since  they 
left  the  rock  where  she  had  waited. 

Luis  smiled  back,  relief  showing  in  the  uplift  of 
his  lips  and  the  lightening  of  his  eyes.  "  She's 
cache  grob,  Kamon,"  he  said.  "  She's  go  som' 
place  and  we  go  also.  She's  wait  for  us.  Dam- 
long  way  —  tree  days,  I  theenk  me." 
247 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  You  find  that  grub,"  said  Annie-Many-Ponies, 
letting  her  hand  drop  away  from  the  knife.  "  I 
awful  hongry.  We  eat,  then  we  go." 

"  No  —  no  go  till  dark  comes !  We  walk  in 
night  —  so  somebody  don'  see !  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  looked  at  him  sharply,  savr 
that  he  was  very  much  in  earnest,  and  turned  away 
to  gather  some  dry  twigs  for  the  fire.  Up  the 
canon  a  horse  whinnied  inquiringly,  and  Luis, 
hastening  furtively  that  way,  found  the  horse  he 
had  ridden  into  this  place  with  Ramon.  With  the 
problem  of  finding  provender  for  the  two  animals, 
he  had  enough  to  occupy  him  until  Annie-Many- 
Ponies,  from  the  coarse  food  he  brought  her,  cooked 
a  crude  breakfast. 

Truly,  this  was  not  what  she  had  dreamed  the 
morning  would  be  like  —  she  who  had  been  wor- 
ried over  the  question  of  whether  Ramon  would  let 
her  confess  to  the  priest  before  they  were  married ! 
Here  was  no  priest  and  no  Ramon,  even;  but  a 
keen-eyed  young  Mexican  whom  she  scarcely  knew 
at  all;  and  a  mysterious  hiding-out  in  closed-in 
canons  until  dark  before  they  might  follow  Ramon 
who  loved  her.  Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  under- 
248 


ANNIE-MANY-PONIES  WAITS 

stand  why  all  this  stealthiness  should  be  necessary, 
for  she  knew  that  proof  of  her  honorable  marriage 
would  end  Luck's  pursuit  —  supposing  he  did  pur- 
sue —  even  though  his  anger  might  live  always  for 
her.  She  did  not  understand ;  and  when  an  Indian 
confronts  a  situation  which  puzzles  him,  you  may 
be  very  sure  that  same  Indian  is  going  to  be  very, 
very  cautious.  Annie-Many-Ponies  was  Indian  to 
the  middle  of  her  bones. 


249 


CHAPTEK  XVII 

APPLEHEAD    SHOWS    THE   STUFF   HE    IS    MADE   OF 

LITE  AVEKY,  turning  to  look  back  as  they 
galloped  up  a  long  slope  so  gradual  in  its  rise 
that  it  seemed  almost  level,  counted  just  fourteen 
Indians  spreading  out  fanwise  in  pursuit.  He 
turned  to  Applehead  with  the  quiet  deference  in 
his  manner  that  had  won  the  old  man's  firm  friend- 
ship. 

"  What's  this  new  move  signify,  boss  ? "  he 
asked,  tilting  his  head  backward.  "What  they 
spreading  out  like  that  for,  when  they're  outa  easy 
rifle  range  ?  " 

Applehead  looked  behind  him,  studied  the  new 
formation  of  their  enemy,  and  scowled  in  puzzle- 
ment. He  looked  ahead,  where  he  knew  the  land 
lay  practically  level  before  them,  all  sand  and  rab- 
bit weed,  with  a  little  grass  here  and  there ;  to  the 
left,  where  the  square  butte  stood  up  bold-faced 
250 


THE  STUFF  HE  IS  MADE  OF 

and  grim;  to  the  right  where  a  ragged  sandstone 
ledge  blocked  the  way. 

"  'S  some  dang  new  trap  uh  theirn,"  he  decided, 
his  voice  signifying  disgust  for  such  methods. 
"  Take  an  Injun  'n'  he  don't  calc'late  he's  fightin' 
'nless  he's  figgurin'  on  gittin'  yuh  cornered. 
Mebby  they  got  some  more  cached  ahead  som'ers. 
Keep  yer  eye  peeled,  boys,  'n'  shoot  at  any  dang 
thing  yuh  see  that  yuh  ain't  dead  sure  's  a  rabbit 
weed.  Don't  go  bankin'  on  rocks  bein'  harmless 
— 'cause  every  dang  one's  liable  to  have  an  Injun 
layin'  on  his  belly  behind  it.  Must  be  another 
bunch  ahead  som'ers,  'cause  I  know  it's  smooth 
goin'  fer  five  miles  yit.  After  that  they's  a  drop 
down  into  a  rocky  kinda  pocket  that's  hard  t'  git 
out  of  except  the  way  yuh  go  in,  account  of  there 
bein'  one  uh  them  dang  rim-rocks  runnin'  clean 
'round  it.  Some  calls  it  the  Devil's  Fryin'-pan. 
!N"o  water  ner  grass  ner  nothin'  else  'ceptin'  shakes. 
'N'  Navvies  kinda  ownin'  rattlers  as  bein'  their 
breed  uh  cats,  they  don't  kill  'em  off,  so  they's  a 
heap  'n'  plenty  of  'em  in  that  basin. 

"  But  I  ain't  aimin'  t'  git  caught  down  in  there, 
now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  I  aim  t'  keep  along  clost  t' 
261 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

that  there  butte,  V  out  on  the  other  side  where  we 
kin  pick  up  Luck's  trail.  I  shore  would  do  some 
rarin'  around  if  that  boy  rode  off  into  a  mess  uh 
trouble,  V  I'm  tellin'  yuh  straight !  " 

"  He's  got  some  good  boy  at  his  back,"  Weary 
reminded  him,  loyal  to  his  Flying  U  comrade. 

"  You're  dang  right  he  has !  I  ain't  sayin'  he 
ain't,  am  I  ?  Throw  some  more  lead  back  at  them 
skunks  behind  us,  will  ye,  Lite?  'N'  the  rest  of 
yuh  save  yore  shells  fer  close-ups !  "  He  grinned 
a  little  at  the  incongruity  of  a  motion-picture 
phrase  in  such  a  situation  as  this.  "  'N'  don't  be 
so  dang  skeered  uh  hurtin'  somebody !  "  he  adjured 
Lite,  drawing  rein  a  little  so  as  not  to  forge  ahead 
of  the  other.  "  You'll  have  to  kill  off  a  few  any- 
way 'fore  you're  through  with  'em." 

Lite  aimed  at  the  man  riding  in  the  center  of 
the  half-circle,  and  the  bullet  he  sent  that  way 
created  excitement  of  some  sort;  but  whether  the 
Indian  was  badly  hit,  or  only  missed  by  a  narrow 
margin,  the  four  did  not  wait  to  discover.  They 
had  held  their  horses  down  to  a  pace  that  merely 
kept  them  well  ahead  of  the  Indians ;  and  though 
the  horses  were  sweating,  they  were  holding  their 
252 


THE  STUFF  HE  IS  MADE  OF 

own  easily  enough  —  with  a  reserve  fund  of  speed 
if  their  riders  needed  to  call  upon  it. 

Applehead,  glancing  often  behind  him,  scowled 
over  the  puzzle  of  that  fanlike  formation  of  riders. 
They  would  hardly  begin  so  soon  to  herd  him  and 
his  men  into  that  evil  little  rock  basin  with  the 
sinister  name,  and  there  was  no  other  reason  he 
could  think  of  which  would  justify  those  tactics, 
unless  another  party  waited  ahead  of  them.  He 
squinted  ahead  uneasily,  but  the  mesa  lay  parched 
and  empty  under  the  sky  — 

And  then,  peering  straight  into  the  glare  of  the 
sun,  he  saw,  down  the  slope  which  they  had  climbed 
without  realizing  that  it  would  have  a  crest,  it  was 
so  low  —  Applehead  saw  the  answer  to  the  puzzle ; 
saw  and  gave  his  funny  little  grunt  of  astonishment 
and  dismay.  Straight  as  a  chalk  line  from  the 
sandstone  ledge  on  their  right  to  the  straight-walled 
butte  on  their  left  stretched  that  boundary  line 
between  the  untamed  wilderness  and  the  tamed  — 
a  barbed  wire  fence ;  a  four-wire  fence  at  that,  with 
stout  cedar  posts  whereon  the  wire  was  stretched 
taut  and  true.  From  the  look  of  the  posts,  it  was 
not  new  —  four  or  five  years  old,  perhaps ;  not  six 
253 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

years,  certainly,  for  Applehead  had  ridden  this 
way  six  years  before  and  there  had  been  not  so 
much  as  a  post-hole  to  herald  the  harnessing  of  the 
mesa. 

Here,  then,  was  the  explanation  of  the  fanlike 
spreading  out  of  the  line  of  Indians.  They  knew 
that  the  white  men  would  be  trapped  by  the  fence, 
and  they  were  cutting  off  the  retreat  —  and  keep- 
ing out  of  the  hottest  danger-zone  of  the  white 
men's  guns.  Even  while  the  four  were  grasping 
the  full  significance  of  the  trap  that  they  had  rid- 
den into  unaware,  the  Indians  topped  the  ridge  be- 
hind them,  yip-yip-yipping  gleefully  their  coyote- 
like  yells  of  triumph.  The  sound  so  stirred  the 
slow  wrath  of  Lite  Avery  that,  without  waiting  for 
the  word  from  Applehead  he  twisted  half  around 
in  his  saddle,  glanced  at  the  nearest  Indian  along 
his  rifle-sights,  bent  his  forefinger  with  swift  de- 
liberation upon  the  trigger,  and  emptied  the  saddle 
of  one  yelling  renegade,  who  made  haste  to  crawl 
behind  a  clump  of  rabbit  weed. 

"  They  howl  like  a  mess  uh  coyotes,"  Lite  ob- 
served in  justification  of  the  shot,  "  and  I'm  getting 
sick  of  hearing  'em." 

254: 


"  Mama !  "  Weary  exclaimed  annoyedly,  "  that 
darn  fence  is  on  an  Tip-slope,  so  it's  going  to  be  next 
to  impossible  to  jump  it !  I  guess  here's  where  we 
do  about  an  eight-hundred-foot  scene  of  Indian 
Warfare,  or  Fighting  For  Their  Lives.  How  yuh 
feel,  Cadwalloper  ? " 

"  Me  ?  "  Pink's  eyes  were  purple  with  sheer, 
fighting  rage.  "  I  feel  like  cleaning  out  that  bunch 
back  there.  They'll  have  something  to  howl  about 
when  I  get  through  !  " 

"  Stay  back  uh  me,  boys !  "  Applehead's  voice 
had  a  masterful  sharpness  that  made  the  three 
tighten  reins  involuntarily.  "  You  foller  me  — 
and  don't  crowd  up  on  me,  neither.  Send  back  a 
shot  or  two  if  them  Injuns  gits  too  ambitious." 

The  three  fell  in  behind  him  without  cavil  or 
question.  lie  was  in  charge  of  the  outfit,  and  that 
settled  it.  Pink,  released  from  irksome  inaction 
by  the  permission  to  shoot,  turned  and  fired  back 
at  the  first  Indian  his  sights  rested  upon.  He  saw 
a  spurt  of  sand  ten  jumps  in  advance  of  his  target, 
and  he  swore  and  fired  again  without  waiting  to 
steady  his  aim.  The  sorrel  pack-horse,  loping 
along  fifty  yards  or  so  behind  with  a  rhythmic 
255 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

clump-clump  of  frying-pan  against  coffee-pot  at 
every  leap  he  took,  swerved  sharply,  shook  his  head 
as  though  a  bee  had  stung  him,  and  came  on  with  a 
few  stiff-legged  "  crow  hops  "  to  register  his  violent 
objection  to  being  shot  through  the  ear. 

Pink,  with  an  increased  respect  for  the  shooting 
skill  of  Lite  Avery,  glanced  guiltily  at  the  others 
to  see  if  they  had  observed  where  his  second  bullet 
hit.  But  the  others  were  eyeing  Applehead  un- 
easily and  paid  no  attention  to  Pink  or  his  attempts 
to  hit  an  Indian  on  the  run.  And  presently  Pink 
forgot  it  also  while  he  watched  Applehead,  who  was 
apparently  determined  to  commit  suicide  in  a  vio- 
lently original  form. 

"  You  fellers  keep  behind,  now  —  and  hold  the 
Injuns  back  fer  a  minute  er  two,"  Applehead  yelled 
while  he  set  himself  squarely  in  the  saddle,  gath- 
ered up  his  reins  as  though  he  were  about  to  "  top 
a  bronk  "  and  jabbed  the  spurs  with  a  sudden  sav- 
ageness  into  Johnny's  flanks. 

"  Git  outa  here !  "  he  yelled,  and  Johnny  with 
an  astonished  lunge,  "  got." 

Straight  toward  the  fence  they  raced,  Johnny 
with  his  ears  laid  back  tight  against  his  skull  and 
256 


THE  STUFF  HE  IS  MADE  OF 

his  nose  pointed  straight  out  hefore  him,  with  old 
Applehead  leaning  forward  and  yelling  to  Johnny 
with  a  cracked  hoarseness  that  alone  betrayed  how 
far  youth  was  behind  him. 

They  thought  at  first  that  he  meant  to  jump  the 
fence,  and  they  knew  he  could  not  make  it.  When 
they  saw  that  he  meant  to  ride  through  it,  Weary 
and  Pink  groaned  involuntarily  at  the  certainty  of 
a  fall  and  sickening  entanglement  in  the  wires. 
Only  Lite,  cool  as  though  he  were  rounding  up 
milch  cows,  rode  half-turned  in  the  saddle  and  sent 
shot  after  shot  back  at  the  line  of  Navajos,  with 
such  swift  precision  that  the  Indians  swerved  and 
fell  back  a  little,  leaving  another  pony  wallowing 
in  the  sand  and  taking  with  them  one  fellow  who 
limped  until  he  had  climbed  up  behind  one  who 
waited  for  him. 

"  Go  it,  Johnny  —  dang  yore  measly  hide,  go 
to  it !  We'll  show  'm  we  ain't  so  old  'n'  tender  we 
cain't  turn  a  trick  t'  bug  their  dang  eyes  out  I  Bust 
into  it !  We'll  show  'em !  -'  And  Applehead 
shrilled  a  raucous  range  "  Hoo-eee-ee!  "  as  Johnny 
lunged  against  the  taut  wires. 

It  was  a  long  chance  he  took  —  a  "  dang  long 
257 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

chance  "  as  Applehead  admitted  afterward.  But, 
as  he  had  hoped,  it  happened  that  Johnny's  stride 
brought  him  with  a  forward  leap  against  the  wires, 
so  that  the  full  impact  of  his  eleven-hundred 
pounds  plus  the  momentum  of  his  speed,  plus  the 
weight  of  Applehead  and  the  saddle,  hit  the  wires 
fair  and  full.  They  popped  like  cut  wires  on  a 
bale  of  hay  —  and  it  was  lucky  that  they  were 
tight  strung  so  that  there  was  no  slack  to  take  some 
of  the  force  away.  It  was  not  luck,  but  plain 
shrewdness  on  Applehead's  part,  that  Johnny  came 
straight  on,  so  that  there  was  no  tearing  see-saw 
of  the  strands  as  they  broke.  Two  inch-long  cuts 
on  his  chest  and  a  deeper,  longer  one  on  his  foreleg 
was  the  price  Johnny  paid,  and  that  was  all.  The 
lower  wire  he  never  touched,  since  it  was  a  leap 
that  landed  him  against  the  fence.  He  lurched 
and  recovered  himself,  and  went  on  at  a  slower 
gallop  while  Applehead  beckoned  the  three  to 
come  on. 

"  I  kain't  say  I'd  want  to  git  in  the  habit  uh 
bustin'  fences  that  way,"  he  grinned  over  his  shoul- 
der as  the  three  jumped  through  the  gap  he  had 
made  and  forged  up  to  him.     "  But  I  calc'late  if 
258 


THE  STUFF  HE  IS  MADE  OF 

they's  another  one  Johnny  'n'  me  kin  make  it, 
mebby." 

"  Well,  I  was  brought  up  in  a  barbed  wire  coun- 
try," Pink  exploded,  "  but  I'll  be  darned  if  I  ever 
saw  a  stunt  like  that  pulled  off  before !  " 

"  We-ell,  I  hed  a  bronk  go  hog- wild  ?n'  pop 
three  wires  on  a  fence  one  time,"  Applehead  ex- 
plained modestly,  "  'n'  he  didn't  cut  hisself  a-tall, 
skurcely.  It's  all  accordin'  t'  how  yuh  hit  it,  I 
reckon.  Anyway,  I  calc'lated  it  was  wuth  tryin', 
'cause  we  shore  woulda  had  our  hands  full  if  we'd 
a  stopped  at  that  fence,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  ']SP 
another  thing,"  he  added  bodefully,  "  I  figgured 
we'd  better  be  gittin'  to  Luck  'n'  his  bunch.  I 
calc'late  they  need  us,  mebby." 

No  one  made  any  reply  to  that  statement,  but 
even  Lite,  who  never  had  been  inclined  to  laugh 
at  him,  looked  at  Applehead  with  a  new  respect. 
The  Indians,  having  scurried  back  out  of  range  of 
Lite's  uncomfortably  close  shooting,  yelled  a  bed- 
lam of  yips  and  howls  and  came  on  again  in  a 
closer  group  than  before,  shooting  as  they  rode  — 
at  the  four  men  first,  and  then  at  the  hindmost 
pack-horse  that  gave  a  hop  over  the  wire  left  across 
259 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  gap,  and  came  galloping  heavily  after  the 
others.  They  succeeded  in  burying  a  bullet  in  the 
packed  bedding,  but  that  was  all. 

Three  hundred  yards  or  so  in  the  lead,  the  four 
raced  down  the  long,  gentle  slope.  A  mile  or  two, 
perhaps  three,  they  could  run  before  their  horses 
gave  out.  But  then,  when  they  could  run  no 
longer,  they  would  have  to  stop  and  fight ;  and  the 
question  that  harped  continually  through  their 
minds  was:  Could  they  run  until  they  reached 
Luck  and  the  boys  with  him  ?  Could  they  ?  They 
did  not  even  know  where  Luck  was,  or  what  par- 
ticular angle  of  direction  would  carry  them  to  him 
quickest  Applehead  and  Johnny  were  pointing 
the  way,  keeping  a  length  ahead  of  the  others. 
But  even  old  Applehead  was  riding,  as  he  would 
have  put  it,  "  by-guess  and  by-gosh  "  until  they 
crossed  a  shallow  draw,  labored  up  the  hill  beyond, 
and  heard,  straight  away  before  them,  the  faint 
pop-pop  of  rifle  shots.  Old  Applehead  turned  and 
sent  them  a  blazing  blue  glance  over  his  shoulders. 

"  Ride,  dang  ye !  "  he  barked.  "  They've  got 
Luck  cornered  in  the  Devil's  Fryin'-pan !  " 


260 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
IN  THE  BEVEL'S  FEYING-PAN 

LUCK,  riding  confidently  on  the  trail  of  the 
three  horsemen  who  had  taken  to  the  south 
along  the  front  of  the  square  butte,  believed  that 
the  turn  of  the  trail  around  the  southern  end  meant 
simply  that  the  three  who  came  this  way  would 
meet  their  companions  on  the  other  side,  and  that 
he,  following  after,  would  be  certain  to  meet  Ap- 
plehead.  He  had  hopes  of  the  speedy  capture  of 
Ramon  Chavez  and  his  men,  and  the  hope  spread 
to  the  four  who  went  with  him,  so  that  their  spirits 
rose  considerably.  Big  Medicine  and  Happy  Jack 
even  found  a  good  deal  of  amusement  in  their  ex- 
change of  opinions  regarding  old  granny  Apple- 
head  and  his  constant  fear  of  the  Navvies.  Now 
and  then  the  Native  Son  joined  in  the  laugh, 
though  his  attention  was  chiefly  given  to  the  dis- 
cussion Andy  and  Luck  were  having  about  Eamon 
and  his  manner  of  using  Luck's  work  as  an  oppor- 
261 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

tunity  to  rob  the  bank,  and  the  probable  effect  it 
would  have  on  the  general  standing  of  Luck  and 
his  company  unless  they  managed  to  land  the 
thieves  in  jail.  Being  half  Mexican  himself,  the 
Native  Son  was  sensitive  upon  the  subject  of 
Ramon,  and  almost  as  anxious  to  see  Ramon  in 
jail  as  was  Luck  himself. 

So  while  Applehead  and  his  boys  were  scenting 
danger  and  then  finding  themselves  in  the  middle 
of  it,  Luck  and  his  party  rode  along  absorbed  in 
themselves  and  in  the  ultimate  goal,  which  was 
Ramon.  They  saw  nothing  queer  about  the  trail 
they  followed,  and  they  saw  no  evidence  of  treach- 
ery anywhere.  They  rode  with  the  rifles  slung 
under  their  right  thighs  and  their  six-shooters  at 
their  hips,  and  their  eyes  roving  casually  over  their 
immediate  surroundings  while  their  minds  roved 
elsewhere  —  not  because  they  were  growing  care- 
less, but  because  there  was  absolutely  nothing  to 
rouse  their  suspicions,  now  that  they  no  longer  had 
Applehead  along  to  preach  danger  and  keep  them 
keyed  up  to  expect  it. 

They  followed  the  tracks  through  a  scattered 
grove  of  stunted  pinons,  circled  at  fault  for  a  few 
262 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

minutes  in  the  rocks  beyond,  and  then  picked  up 
the  trail.  They  were  then  in  the  narrow  neck 
which  was  called  the  handle  of  the  Devil's  Frying- 
pan  —  and  they  would  have  ridden  unsuspectingly 
into  the  very  Pan  itself,  had  not  the  jSTative  Son's 
quick  eyes  caught  a  movement  on  the  rim-rock 
across  the  bare,  rock-bottomed  basin.  He  spoke  to 
Luck,  about  it,  and  Luck  levelled  his  field  glasses 
and  glimpsed  a  skulking  form  up  there. 

"  Hunt  yourselves  some  shelter,  boys !  "  he  cried 
in  the  sharp  tone  of  warning.  "  We'll  make  sure 
who's  ahead  before  we  go  any  farther." 

They  ducked  behind  rocks  or  trees  and  piled  off 
their  horses  in  a  hurry.  And  a  scattered  fusillade 
from  the  rim-rock  ahead  of  them  proved  how 
urgent  was  their  need. 

For  the  first  fifteen  minutes  or  so  they  thought 
that  they  were  fighting  Eamon  and  his  party,  and 
their  keenest  emotions  were  built  largely  of  resent- 
ment, which  showed  in  the  booming  voice  of  Big 
Medicine  when  he  said  grimly: 

"  Well,  I'd  jest  about  as  soon  pack  Eamon  in 
dead,  as  lead  'im  in  alive  'n'  kickin',  by  cripes! 
Which  is  him,  d'yuh  reckon  ? " 
263 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

From  behind  a  rock  shield  Luck  was  studying 
the  ledge.  "  They're  Injuns  —  or  there  are  In- 
juns in  the  bunch,  at  least,"  he  told  them  after  a 
moment.  "  See  that  sharp  point  sticking  up 
straight  ahead?  I  saw  an  Injun  peeking  around 
the  edge  —  to  the  south.  You  watch  for  him, 
Andy,  and  let  him  have  it  where  he  lives  next  time 
he  sticks  his  head  out."  He  swung  the  glasses 
slowly,  taking  every  inch  of  the  rim  in  his  field  of 
vision.  As  he  moved  them  he  named  the  man  he 
wanted  to  watch  each  place  where  he  had  reason  to 
suspect  that  someone  was  hiding. 

The  disheartening  part  of  it  was  that  he  needed 
about  a  dozen  more  men  than  he  had ;  for  the  rock 
wall  which  was  the  rim  of  the  Frying-pan  seemed 
alive  with  shooters  who  waited  only  for  a  fair  tar- 
get. Then  the  Native  Son,  crouched  down  be- 
tween a  rock  and  a  clump  of  brush,  turned  his  head 
to  see  what  his  horse  was  looking  at,  back  whence 
they  had  come. 

"  Look  behind  you,  Luck,"  he  advised  with  more 
calmness  than  one  would  expect  of  a  man  in  his 
straits.  "  They're  back  in  the  pines,  too." 

"  Fight  'em  off  —  and  take  care  that  your  backs 
264 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

don't  show  to  those  babies  on  the  rim-rocks,"  he 
ordered  instantly,  thrusting  his  glasses  into  their 
case  and  snatching  his  rifle  from  its  boot  on  the 
saddle.  "  They  won't  tackle  coming  across  that 
bare  hollow,  even  if  they  can  get  down  into  it  with- 
out breaking  their  necks.  Happy,  lead  your  horse 
in  here  between  these  rocks  where  mine  is.  Bud, 
see  if  you  can  get  the  pack-horses  over  there  outa 
sight  among  those  bushes  and  rocks.  We'll  hold 
'em  off  while  you  fix  the  horses  —  can't  let  our- 
selves be  set  afoot  out  here !  " 

"  I-should-say  —  not!"  Andy  Green  punctu- 
ated the  sentence  with  a  shot  or  two.  "  Say,  I 
wish  they'd  quit  sneaking  around  in  those  trees 
that  way,  so  a  fellow  could  see  where  to  shoot !  " 

A  half  hour  dragged  by.  From  the  rim-rock 
came  occasional  shots,  to  which  the  besieged  could 
not  afford  to  reply,  they  were  so  fully  occupied 
with  holding  back  those  who  skulked  among  the 
trees.  The  horses,  fancying  perhaps  that  this  was 
a  motion-picture  scene,  dozed  behind  their  rock- 
and-brush  shelters  and  switched  apathetically  at 
buzzing  flies  and  whining  bullets  alike.  Their 
masters  crouched  behind  their  bowlders  and 
265 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

watched  catlike  for  some  open  demonstration,  and 
fired  when  they  had  the  slightest  reason  to  believe 
that  they  would  hit  something  besides  scenery. 

"  Miguel  must  have  upset  their  plans  a  little," 
Luck  deduced  after  a  lull.  "  They  set  the  stage 
for  us  down  in  that  hollow,  I  guess.  You  can  see 
what  we'd  have  been  up  against  if  we  had  ridden 
ten  rods  farther,  out  away  from  these  rocks  and 
bushes." 

"  Aw,  they  wouldn't  dast  kill  a  bunch  uh  white 
men !  "  Happy  Jack  protested,  perhaps  for  his  own 
comfort. 

"  You  think  they  wouldn't  ? "  Luck's  voice 
was  surcharged  with  sarcasm.  "  What  do  you 
think  they're  trying  to  do,  then  ?  " 

"  Aw,  the  gov'ment  wouldn't  stand  fer  no  such 
actions !  " 

"  Well,  by  cripes,  I  hain't  aimin'  to  give  the 
gov'ment  no  job  uh  setting  on  my  remains,  investi- 
gatin'  why  I  was  killed  off !  "  Big  Medicine  as- 
serted, and  took  a  shot  at  a  distant  grimy  Stetson 
to  prove  he  meant  what  he  said. 

"  Say,  they'd  have  had  a  snap  if  we'd  gone  on, 
and  let  these  fellows  back  here  in  the  trees  close 
266 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

up  behind  us !  "  Andy  Green  exclaimed  suddenly, 
with  a  vividness  of  gesture  that  made  Happy  Jack 
try  to  swallow  his  Adam's  apple.  "  By  gracious, 
it  would  have  been  a  regular  rabbit-drive  business. 
They  could  set  in  the  shade  and  pick  us  off  just 
as  they  darned  pleased." 

"  Aw,  is  that  there  the  cheerfullest  thing  you 
can  think  of  to  say  ?  "  Happy  Jack  was  sweating 
with  something  more  than  desert  heat. 

"  Why,  no.  The  cheerfullest  thing  I  can  think 
of  right  now  is  that  Mig,  here,  don't  ride  with  his 
eyes  shut."  He  cast  a  hasty  glance  of  gratitude 
toward  the  Native  Son,  who  flushed  under  the 
smooth  brown  of  his  cheeks  while  he  fired  at  a 
moving  bush  a  hundred  yards  back  in  the  grove. 

For  another  half  hour  nothing  was  gained  or 
lost.  The  Indians  fired  desultorily,  spatting  bits 
of  lead  here  and  there  among  the  rocks  but  hitting 
nobody.  The  Happy  Family  took  a  shot  at  every 
symptom  of  movement  in  the  grove,  and  toward  the 
rim-rock  they  sent  a  bullet  now  and  then,  just  to 
assure  the  watchers  up  there  that  they  were  not 
forgotten,  and  as  a  hint  that  caution  spelled  safety. 

For  themselves,  the  boys  were  amply  protected 
267 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

there  on  the  side  of  the  Frying-pan  where  the 
handle  stretched  out  into  the  open  land  toward  the 
mountain.  Perhaps  here  was  once  a  torrent  flow- 
ing from  the  basin-like  hollow  walled  round  with 
rock ;  at  any  rate,  great  bowlders  were  scattered  all 
along  the  rim  as  though  spewed  from  the  basin  by 
some  mighty  force  of  the  bygone  ages.  The  soil, 
as  so  often  happens  in  the  West,  was  fertile  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  Frying-pan  and  young  pinons  and 
bushes  had  taken  root  there  and  managed  to  keep 
themselves  alive  with  the  snow-moisture  of  winter, 
in  spite  of  the  scanty  rainfall  the  rest  of  the  year. 
The  boys  were  amply  protected,  yes;  but  there 
was  not  a  drop  of  water  save  what  they  had  in  their 
canteens,  and  there  was  no  feed  for  their  horses 
unless  they  chose  to  nibble  tender  twigs  off  the 
bushes  near  them  and  call  that  food.  There  was, 
of  course,  the  grain  in  the  packs,  but  there  was 
neither  time  nor  opportunity  to  get  it  out.  If  it 
came  to  a  siege,  Luck  and  his  boys  were  in  a  bad 
way,  and  they  knew  it.  They  were  penned  as  well 
as  protected  there  in  that  rocky,  brushy  neck.  The 
most  that  they  could  do  was  to  discourage  any  rush 
from  those  back  in  the  grove ;  as  to  getting  through 
268 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

that  grove  themselves,  and  out  in  the  open,  there 
was  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred  that  they  could 
do  it. 

From  the  outside  in  to  where  they  were  en- 
trenched was  just  a  trifle  easier.  The  Indians  in 
the  grove  were  all  absorbed  in  watching  the  edge 
of  the  Frying-pan  and  had  their  backs  to  the  open, 
never  thinking  that  white  men  would  be  coming 
that  way ;  for  had  not  the  other  party  been  decoyed 
around  the  farther  end  of  the  big  butte,  and  did 
not  several  miles  and  a  barbed-wire  fence  lie  be- 
tween ? 

So  when  Applehead  and  his  three,  coming  in 
from  the  north,  approached  the  grove,  they  did  it 
under  cover  of  a  draw  that  hid  them  from  sight. 
From  the  shots  that  were  fired,  Applehead  guessed 
the  truth ;  that  Luck's  bunch  had  sensed  danger  be- 
fore they  had  actually  ridden  into  the  Frying-pan 
itself,  and  that  the  Navajos  were  trying  to  drive 
them  out  of  the  rocks,  and  were  not  making  much 
of  a  success  of  it. 

"  Now,"  Applehead  instructed  the  three  when 
they  were  as  close  as  they  could  get  to  the  grove 
without  being  seen,  "  I  calc'late  about  the  best  thing 
269 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

we  kin  do,  boys,  is  t'  spur  up  our  bosses  and  ride  in 
amongst  'em  sbooting  and  a-hollerin'.  Mebby  we 
kin  jest  natcherlay  stampede  'em  —  but  we've  sure 
got  t'  git  tbrougb  V  git  under  cover  migbty  dang 
suddent,  er  they'll  come  to  tbeirselves  an'  wipe  us 
clean  off'n  the  map  —  if  tbey's  enough  of  'em. 
These  here  that's  comin'  along  after  us,  they'll  help 
t'  swell  the  party,  oncet  they  git  here.  I  calc'late 
they  figger  't  we're  runnin'  head-on  into  a  mess  uh 
trouble,  'n'  they  don't  want  t'  colleck  any  stray  bul- 
lets— 'n'  that's  why  they've  dropped  back  in  the 
last  half  mile  er  so.  Haze  them  pack  bosses  up 
this  way,  Pink,  so'st  they  won't  git  caught  up  'fore 
they  git  t'  what  the  rest  air.  Best  use  yore  six- 
guns  fer  this,  boys  —  that'll  leave  ye  one  hand  t' 
guide  yore  bosses  with,  and  they're  handier  all 
around  in  close  work.  Air  ye  ready  ?  Then  come 
•m  —  f  oiler  me  'n'  come  a-whoopin' !  " 

A-whooping  they  came,  up  out  of  the  draw  and 
in  among  the  trees  as  though  they  had  a  regiment 
behind  them.  Certain  crouching  figures  jumped, 
sent  startled  glances  behind  them  and  ran  like 
partridges  for  cover  farther  on.  Only  one  or  two 
paused  to  send  a  shot  at  these  charging  fiends  who 
270 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

seemed  bent  on  riding  them  down  and  who  yelled 
like  devils  turned  loose  from  the  pit.  And  before 
they  had  found  safe  covert  on  the  farther  fringes 
of  the  grove  and  were  ready  to  meet  the  onslaught, 
the  clamor  had  ceased  and  the  white  men  had 
joined  those  others  among  the  rocks. 

So  now  there  were  nine  men  cornered  here  on  the 
edge  of  the  Frying-pan,  with  no  water  for  their 
horses  and  not  much  hope  of  getting  out  of  there. 

"  Darn  you,  Applehead,  why  didn't  you  keep 
out  of  this  mess  ?  "  Luck  demanded  with  his  mouth 
drawn  down  viciously  at  the  corners  and  his  eyes 
warm  with  affection  and  gratitude.  "  What  pos- 
sessed your  fool  heart  to  ride  into  this  trap  ?  " 

"  We-ell,  dang  it,  we  had  t'  ride  som'ers,  didn't 
we  ?  "  Applehead,  safe  behind  a  bowlder,  pulled 
off  his  greasy,  gray  Stetson  and  polished  his  bald 
head  disconcertedly.  "  Had  a  bunch  uh  Navvies 
hangin'  t'  our  heels  like  tumbleweed  — 'n'  we  been 
doin'  some  riding  now,  I'm  a  tellin'  ye !  T  Lite, 
here,  hadn't  kep'  droppin'  one  now  an'  then  fur 
the  rest  t'  devour,  I  calc'late  we'd  bin  et  up,  a  mile 
er  two  back !  " 

Lite  looked  up  from  shoving  more  cartridges 
271 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

into  his  rifle-magazine.  "  If  we  hadn't  had  a  real, 
aimon-pure  go-getter  to  boss  the  job,"  he  drawled, 
"  I  reckon  all  the  shooting  I  did  wouldn't  have  cut 
any  ice.  Ain't  that  right,  boys  ?  " 

Pink,  resting  his  rifle  in  a  niche  of  the  boulder 
and  moving  it  here  and  there  trying  to  fix  his  sights 
on  a  certain  green  sweater  back  in  the  woods  that 
he  had  glimpsed  a  minute  before,  nodded  assent. 
"  You're  durn  tootin'  it's  right !  "  he  testified. 

Weary  looked  shining-eyed  at  Applehead's  pur- 
ple face.  "  Sure,  that's  right !  "  he  emphasized. 
"  And  I  don't  care  how  much  of  a  trap  you  call 
this,  it  isn't  a  patching  to  the  one  Applehead  busted 
us  out  of.  He's  what  I  call  a  Keal  One,  boys." 

"  Aw,  shet  yore  dang  head  'n'  git  yore  rifles 
workin' !  "  Applehead  blurted.  "  This  yere  ain't 
no  time  fer  kiddin',  'n'  I'm  tellin'  yuh  straight. 
What's  them  fellers  acrost  the  Fryin'-pan  think 
they're  tryin'  t'  do  ?  Luck  le's  you'n  me  make  a 
few  remarks  over  that  way,  'n'  leave  the  boys  t'  do 
some  gun-talk  with  these  here  babies  behind  us. 
Dang  it,  if  I  knowed  of  a  better  place  'n'  what  this 
is  fer  holdin'  'em  off,  I'd  say  make  a  run  fer  it. 
J3ut  I  don't  'n'  that's  fact.  Yuh  musta  sprung  the 
272 


IN  THE  DEVIL'S  FRYING-PAN 

trap  'fore  yuh  got  inside,  'cause  they  shore  aimed 
t'  occupy  this  nest  uh  rocks  theirselves,  with  you 
fellers  down  there  in  the  Fryin'-pan  where  they 
could  git  at  yuh. 

"  Thar's  one  of  'em  up  on  the  rim-rock  —  see 
'im  ?  —  standin'  thar,  by  granny,  like  he  was  darin' 
somebody  t'  cut  loose !  Here,  Lite,  you  spill  some 
lead  up  thar.  We'll  learn  'im  t'  act  up  smart  — " 

"  Hey,  hold  on !  "  Luck  grabbed  Lite's  arm  as 
he  was  raising  his  rifle  for  a  close  shot  at  the  fellow. 
"  Don't  shoot !  Don't  you  see  ?  That's  the  peace- 
sign  he's  making !  " 

"  Well,  now,  dang  it,  he  better  be  makin'  peace 
signs !  "  growled  Applehead  querulously,  and  sat 
down  heavily  on  a  shelf  of  the  rock.  "  'Cause  Lite, 
here,  shore  woulda  tuk  an  ear  off'n  him  in  another 
minute,  now  I'm  tellin'  ye !  " 


273 


CHAFTEK  XIX 

PEACE    TALK 

ACEOSS  the  Frying-pan  an  Indian  stood 
boldly  out  upon  a  jutting  point  of  rock  and 
raised  a  hand  in  the  sweeping  upward  motion  of 
the  peace-sign.  The  questing  bullets  that  came 
seeking  for  bone  and  flesh  among  the  rocks  and 
bushes  came  no  more  when  the  signal  was  passed 
from  those  who  saw  to  those  farther  back  who  could 
not  see  the  figure  silhouetted  against  the  brilliant 
blue  of  the  sky.  A  moment  he  stood,  made  the 
sign  again,  and  waited. 

"  That's  peace-sign,  sure  as  you're  born !  "  Luck 
cried  breathlessly,  and  went  scrambling  through 
the  bushes  to  where  he  might  stand  in  the  open,  on 
the  very  rim  of  the  basin.  Applehead  yelled  to 
him  to  come  back  and  not  make  a  dang  fool  of  him- 
self, but  Luck  gave  no  heed  to  the  warning.  He 
stood  out  in  the  blazing  sunshine  and  gave  the 
peace-sign  in  reply. 

On  the-rim  rock  the  Indian  stood  motionless 
274 


PEACE  TALK 

while  he  might  have  taken  three  or  four  breaths. 
Then  with  his  hand  he  gave  the  sign  for  "  pow- 
wow "  and  waited  again. 

Luck,  his  pulse  thrilling  at  the  once  familiar 
gesture  which  his  tribal  "  father,"  old  chief  Big 
Turkey,  used  to  give  when  he  came  stalking  up 
for  his  daily  confab  with  his  adopted  son,  gave  back 
the  sign  with  a  hand  that  trembled  noticeably. 
Whereupon  the  Indian  on  the  farther  rim  turned 
and  began  dignifiedly  to  climb  through  a  rift  in 
the  ledge  down  into  the  Frying-pan. 

"  He  wants  a  pow-wow,"  Luck  called  back  to 
the  bunch.  "  You  fellows  stay  where  you're  at  — 
I'm  going  out  there  in  the  middle  and  talk  to  him." 

"  Now,  Luck,  don't  let  'em  make  a  dang  monkey 
outa  ye,"  Applehead  protested  anxiously.  "  In- 
juns is  tricky  — " 

"That's  all  right.  You  can  keep  a  couple  of 
rifles  sighted  on  that  old  chief  —  that's  what  he  is, 
I  take  it,  from  his  actions  and  his  talking  '  sign  ' — 
and  then  if  they  pot  me,  you  can  pot  him.  But 
they  won't.  I  know  Injuns  better  than  you  do, 
Applehead.  He  just  wants  to  talk  things  over  — 
and  I'm  certainly  willing  that  he  should !  " 
275 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  Well,  Lite,  you  keep  your  sights  lined  up  on 
that  Injun,  then.  'N'  if  they's  a  crooked  move 
made  towards  Luck,  you  cut  loose  — 'n'  say  1  You 
shoot  to  kill,  this  time !  "  He  shook  his  finger  in 
Lite's  face  admonishingly.  "  'S  all  right  t'  nip 
'em  here  'n'  take  a  hunk  out  there  jest  t'  kinda  take 
their  minds  off'n  us  — 's  all  right  enough  so  fur,  'n' 
I  ain't  kickin'  none  'cause  yuh  ain't  killed  off  yuh 
hit.  But  if  this  here's  a  trick  t'  git  Luck,  you  kill 
that  Injun.  'N"'  if  you  don't  do  it  I'll  go  out  there 
m'self  'n'  choke  the  dang  skunk  t'  death !  " 

"  I'll  kill  him  —  don't  worry  about  that,"  Lite 
promised  —  and  the  look  in  his  eyes  told  them  that 
the  Indian  was  doomed  at  the  first  sign  of  treach- 
ery. 

"  You  fellers  wanta  keep  an  eye  peeled  fer  them 
in  the  grove,"  Applehead  warned.  "  We  ain't 
goin'  t'  give  'em  no  chanst  t'  sneak  up  'n'  skulp  us 
whilst  we're  watchin'  Luck  'n'  his  dang-fool  pow- 
wowin'  out  there  in  the  middle." 

"Aw,  gwan!  They  wouldn't  dost  skelp  white 
folks !  "  There  was  a  wail  in  the  voice  of  Happy 
Jack. 

'*  They  dast  if  they  git  the  chanst,"  Applehead 
276 


PEACE  TALK 

retorted  fretfully.  "  'E"'  if  you  don't  wanta  loose 
that  there  red  mop  uh  yourn  ye  better  keep  yer  eyes 
open,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  "  He  refilled  his  rifle 
magazine  and  took  up  his  station  beside  Lite  A  very 
where  he  could  watch  the  Frying-pan  through  the 
bushes  without  exposing  himself  to  a  treacherous 
shot  from  the  rim-rock. 

At  the  foot  of  the  sandstone  ledge  the  Indian 
stood  with  his  bright  red  blanket  wrapped  around 
him  watching  Luck.  On  his  own  side  Luck  stood 
just  clear  of  the  rock  huddle  and  watched  the  In- 
dian. Presently  he  of  the  red  blanket  lifted  his 
hand  in  the  gesture  of  peace,  and  started  deliber- 
ately out  across  the  bare  little  basin.  From  his 
own  side,  Luck,  returning  again  the  gesture,  went 
out  to  meet  him.  In  the  center  they  met,  and  eyed 
each  other  frankly.  Still  eyeing  Luck,  the  old 
Indian  put  out  his  hand  Indian  fashion,  and  Luck 
gave  it  one  downward  shake  and  let  go. 

"  How  ?  "  he  grunted ;  and  in  the  Indian  custom 
of  preparing  for  a  leisurely  pow-wow  as  he  had 
been  taught  by  the  Sioux,  he  squatted  upon  his 
boot  heels  and  reached  for  his  cigarette  papers  and 
tobacco. 

277 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  How  ?  "  replied  the  Navajo,  a  flicker  of  inter- 
est in  his  eyes  at  these  little  Indian  touches  in 
Luck's  manner,  and  sat  himself  down  cross-legged 
on  the  hot  sand. 

Luck  rolled  a  cigarette  and  passed  the  "mak- 
ings "  to  the  other,  who  received  it  gravely  and 
proceeded  to  help  himself.  Luck  scratched  a 
match  on  a  stone  that  lay  beside  him,  lighted  the 
Indian's  cigarette  and  then  his  own,  took  four 
puffs  and  blew  the  smoke  upward,  watching  it 
spread  and  drift  away,  and  made  the  gesture  that 
meant  "  Our  pow-wow  will  be  good,"  as  he  had  seen 
the  Sioux  medicine  men  do  before  a  council.  Aft- 
erwards he  began  placidly  to  smoke  and  meditate. 

From  his  manner  you  would  never  have  guessed 
that  his  life  and  the  lives  of  the  Happy  Family 
hung  upon  the  outcome  of  this  meeting.  You 
would  not  have  surmised  that  his  stomach  was 
gnawing  at  his  nerves,  sending  out  insistently  the 
call  for  food ;  or  that  his  thirst  tormented  him ;  or 
that  the  combination  of  hunger,  heat,  thirst  and 
mental  strain  had  bred  a  jumping  headache  that 
was  knotting  the  veins  in  his  temples.  All  these 
nagging  miseries  beset  him  —  but  he  knew  the 
278 


PEACE  TALK 

ways  of  the  Indians  and  he  meant  to  impress  this 
old  man  first  of  all  with  his  plains-Indian  training ; 
so  he  schooled  himself  to  patience. 

The  Indian  eyed  him  furtively  from  under  heavy 
eyebrows  while  he  smoked.  And  the  sun  beat  sav- 
agely down  upon  the  sand  of  that  basin,  and  Luck's 
vision  blurred  with  the  pain  that  throbbed  behind 
his  eyes.  But  the  facial  discipline  of  the  actor  was 
his  to  command,  and  he  permitted  his  face  to  give 
no  sign  of  what  he  felt  or  thought. 

The  Indian  leaned  slowly,  lifted  a  brown  hand, 
made  a  studied  gesture  or  two  and  waited,  his  eyes 
fixed  unwinkingly  upon  Luck.  It  was  as  if  he 
were  saying  to  himself :  "  We'll  see  if  this  white 
man  can  speak  in  the  sign-talk  of  the  Indians." 

Luck  lifted  his  two  hands,  drew  them  slowly 
apart  to  say  that  he  had  come  a  long  way.  Then, 
using  only  his  hands  —  sometimes  his  fingers  only 
—  he  began  to  talk;  to  tell  the  old  Navajo  that  he 
and  eight  other  white  men  were  sheriffs  and  that 
they  were  chasing  four  white  men  (since  he  had  no 
sign  that  meant  Mexican)  who  had  stolen  money ; 
that  they  had  come  from  Albuquerque  —  and  there 
he  began  to  draw  in  the  sand  between  them  a  crude 
279 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

but  thoroughly  understandable  sketch  of  the  trail 
they  had  taken  and  the  camps  they  had  made,  and 
the  distance  they  believed  the  four  thieves  had 
travelled  ahead  of  them. 

He  marked  the  camp  where  their  horses  had  been 
stolen  from  them  and  told  how  long  they  had  waited 
there  until  the  horses  of  their  own  accord  returned 
to  camp;  thirteen  horses,  he  explained  to  the  old 
Navajo.  He  drew  a  rough  square  to  indicate  the 
square  butte,  sketched  the  fork  of  the  trail  there 
and  told  how  four  men  had  turned  to  the  north  on 
a  false  trail,  while  he  and  four  others  had  gone 
around  the  southern  end  of  the  hill.  He  calmly 
made  plain  that  at  the  end  of  both  false  trails  a 
trap  had  been  laid,  that  Indians  had  fired  upon 
white  men  and  for  no  just  cause.  Why  was  this 
so?  Why  had  Indians  surrounded  them  back 
there  in  the  grove  and  tried  to  kill  them?  Why 
were  Indians  shooting  at  them  from  the  ledge  of 
rocks  that  circled  this  little  basin  ?  They  had  no 
quarrel  with  the  Navajos.  They  were  chasing 
thieves,  to  take  them  to  jail. 

Folded  swelteringly  in  his  red  blanket,  the  old 
Indian  sat  humped  forward  a  little,  smoking 
280 


PEACE  TALK 

slowly  his  cigarette  and  studying  the  sketch  Luck 
had  drawn  for  him.  With  aching  head  and 
parched  throat  and  hungry  stomach,  Luck  sat  cross- 
legged  on  the  hot  sand  and  waited,  and  would  not 
let  his  face  betray  any  emotion  at  all.  Up  on  the 
rim-rock  brown  faces  peered  down  steadfastly  at  the 
pow-wow.  And  back  among  the  rocks  and  bushes 
the  Happy  Family  waited  restively  with  eyes 
turning  in  all  directions  guarding  against  treach- 
ery; and  Lite,  whose  bullets  always  went  straight 
to  the  spot  where  they  were  aimed,  stood  and 
stared  fixedly  over  his  rifle  sights  at  the  red- 
blanketed  figure  squatted  in  the  sand  and  kept  his 
finger  crooked  upon  the  trigger.  Beside  him  Ap- 
plehead  fidgeted  and  grumbled  and  called  Luck 
names  for  being  so  dang  slow,  and  wondered  if 
those  two  out  there  meant  to  sit  and  chew  the  rag 
all  day. 

The  Indian  leaned  and  traced  Luck's  trail  slowly 
with  his  finger.  Did  the  four  white  men  come  that 
way  ?  he  asked  in  sign.  And  then,  had  Luck  seen 
them?  Was  he  sure  that  he  was  following  the 
four  who  had  stolen  money  in  Albuquerque  ? 

Come  to  think  of  it,  Luck  was  not  sure  to  the 
281 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

point  of  being  able  to  take  oath  that  it  was  so. 
He  traced  again  where  the  hoofprints  had  been  dis- 
covered near  the  stalled  automobile,  and  signed  that 
the  six  horses  they  believed  to  have  belonged  to  the 
four  who  had  taken  two  horses  packed  with  food 
and  blankets  —  and  the  stolen  money. 

Then  suddenly  Luck  remembered  that,  for  proof 
of  his  story,  he  had  a  page  of  the  Evening  Herald 
in  his  pocket,  torn  from  a  copy  he  had  bought  on 
the  streets  the  evening  after  the  robbery.  He 
pulled  the  folded  paper  out,  spread  it  before  the 
other  and  pointed  to  the  article  that  told  of  the  rob- 
bery. "  Call  some  young  man  of  your  tribe  who 
can  read,"  he  signed.  "  Let  him  read  and  tell  you 
if  I  have  spoken  the  truth." 

The  Indian  took  the  paper  and  looked  at  it 
curiously. 

Now,  unless  Applehead  or  some  other  hot-head 
spoiled  things,  Luck  believed  that  things  would 
smooth  down  beautifully.  There  had  been  some 
misunderstanding,  evidently  —  else  the  Indians 
would  never  have  manifested  all  this  old-fashioned 
hostility. 

The  blanketed  one  showed  himself  a  true  diplo- 
282 


PEACE  TALK 

mat.  "  Call  one  of  your  white  men,  that  there 
may  be  two  and  two,"  he  gestured.  And  he  added, 
with  the  first  words  he  had  spoken  since  they  met, 
"  Hablo  espafiol  ?  » 

Well,  if  he  spoke  Spanish,  thought  Luck,  why 
the  deuce  hadn't  he  done  it  at  first  ?  But  there  is 
no  fathoming  the  reticence  of  an  Indian  —  and 
Luck,  by  a  sudden  impulse,  hid  his  own  knowledge 
of  the  language.  He  stood  up  and  turned  toward 
the  rocks,  cupped  his  hands  around  his  lips  and 
called  for  the  Native  Son.  "  And  leave  your  rifle 
at  home,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought  and  in  the 
interests  of  peace. 

The  Indian  turned  to  the  rim-rock,  held  up  the 
fragment  of  newspaper  and  called  for  one  whom 
he  called  Juan.  Presently  Juan's  Stetson  ap- 
peared above  the  ledge,  and  Juan  himself  scram- 
bled hastily  down  the  rift  and  came  to  them,  grin- 
ning with  his  lips  and  showing  a  row  of  beautifully 
even  teeth,  and  asking  suspicious  questions  with  his 
black  eyes  that  shone  through  narrowed  lids. 

Miguel,  arriving  just  then  from  the  opposite 
direction,  sized  him  up  with  one  heavy-lashed 
glance  and  nodded  negligently.  He  had  left  his 
283 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

rifle  behind  him  as  he  had  been  told,  but  his  six- 
shooter  hung  inside  the  waistband  of  his  trousers 
where  he  could  grip  it  with  a  single  drop  of  his 
hand.  The  Native  Son,  lazy  as  he  looked,  was  not 
taking  any  chances. 

The  old  Indian  explained  in  Navajo  to  the 
young  man  who  eyed  the  two  white  men  while  he 
listened.  Of  the  blanket-vending,  depot-haunting 
type  was  this  young  man,  with  a  ready  smile  and  a 
quick  eye  for  a  bargain  and  a  smattering  of  Eng- 
lish learned  in  his  youth  at  a  mission,  and  a  larger 
vocabulary  of  Mexican  that  lent  him  fluency  of 
speech  when  the  mood  to  talk  was  on  him.  Half 
of  his  hair  was  cut  so  that  it  hung  even  with  his 
ear-lobes.  At  the  back  it  was  long  and  looped  up 
in  the  way  a  horse's  tail  is  looped  in  muddy 
weather,  and  tied  with  a  grimy  red  ribbon  wound 
round  and  round  it.  He  wore  a  green-and-white 
roughneck  sweater  broadly  striped,  and  the  blue 
overalls  that  inevitably  follow  American  civiliza- 
tion into  the  wild  places. 

"  'S  hot  day,"  he  announced  unemotionally,  and 
took  the  paper  which  the  red-blanketed  one  held 
out  to  him.  His  air  of  condescension  could  not 
284 


PEACE  TALK 

hide  the  fact  that  behind  his  pride  at  being  able  to 
read  print  he  was  unhappily  aware  also  of  his 
limitations  in  the  accomplishment.  Along  the 
scare-head  Luck  had  indicated,  his  dirty  forefinger 
moved  slowly  while  he  spelled  out  the  words.  "  A- 
a-bank  rob !  "  he  read  triumphantly,  and  repeated 
the  statement  in  Spanish.  After  that  he  mumbled 
a  good  deal  of  it,  the  longer  words  arresting  his 
finger  while  he  struggled  with  the  syllables.  But 
he  got  the  sense  of  it  nevertheless,  as  Luck  and 
Miguel  knew  by  the  version  he  gave  in  Spanish  to 
the  old  Indian,  with  now  and  then  a  ISTavajo  word 
to  help  out. 

When  he  came  to  the  place  where  Eamon  Chavez 
and  Luis  Eojas  were  named  as  the  thieves,  he  gave 
a  grunt  and  looked  up  at  Luck  and  Miguel,  read  in 
their  faces  that  these  were  the  men  they  sought,  and 
grinned. 

"  Me,  I  know  them  feller,"  he  declared  unex- 
pectedly. "  Dat  day  I  seen  them  feller.  They 
go-" 

The  old  Indian  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  and 
Juan  turned  and  repeated  the  statement  in  Spanish. 
The  old  man's  eyes  went  to  Luck  understandingly 
285 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

while  he  asked  Juan  a  question  in  the  Navajo 
tongue,  and  afterwards  gave  a  command.  He 
turned  his  eyes  upon  the  Native  Son  and  spoke 
in  Spanish.  "  The  men  you  want  did  not  come 
this  way/'  he  said  gravely.  "  Juan  will  tell." 

"  Yes,  I  know  dat  Ramon  Chavez.  I  seen  him 
dat  day.  I'm  start  for  home,  an'  I  seen  Ramon 
Chavez  an'  dat  Luis  Eojas  an'  one  white  feller  — 
I'm  don't  know  dat  feller.  They  don't  got  red 
car.  They  got  big,  black  car.  They  come  outa 
corral  —  scare  my  horse.  They  go  'cross  rail- 
road. I  go  'cross  rio.  One  red  car  pass  me.  I 
go  along,  bimeby  I  pass  red  car  in  sand.  Ramon 
Chavez,  he  don't  go  in  dat  car.  I  don't  know 
them  feller.  Ramon  Chavez  he  go  'cross  railroad 
in  big  black  car." 

"  Then  who  was  it  we've  been  trailing  out  this 
way  ?  "  Luck  asked  the  question  in  Spanish  and 
glanced  from  one  brown  face  to  the  other. 

The  older  Indian  shifted  his  moccasined  feet  in 
the  sand  and  looked  away.  "  Indians,"  he  said  in 
Mexican.  "  You  follow,  Indians  think  you  maybe 
take  them  away  —  put  'm  in  jail.  All  friends  of 
them  Indians  pretty  mad.  They  come  fight  you. 
286 


PEACE  TALK 

I  hear,  I  come  to  find  out  what's  fighting 
about." 

Luck  gazed  at  him  stupidly  for  a  moment  until 
the  full  meaning  of  the  statement  seeped  through 
the  ache  into  his  brain.  He  heaved  a  great  sigh  of 
relief,  looked  at  the  Native  Son  and  laughed. 

"  The  joke's  on  us,  I  guess,"  he  said.  "  Go 
back  and  tell  that  to  the  boys.  I'll  be  along  in  a 
minute." 

Juan,  grinning  broadly  at  what  he  considered  a 
very  good  joke  on  the  nine  white  men  who  had 
traveled  all  this  way  for  nothing,  went  back  to  ex- 
plain the  mistake  to  his  fellows  on  the  ledge.  The 
old  Indian  took  it  upon  himself  to  disperse  the 
Navajos  in  the  grove,  and  just  as  suddenly  as  the 
trouble  started  it  was  stopped  —  and  the  Happy 
Family,  if  they  had  been  at  all  inclined  to  belittle 
the  danger  of  their  position,  were  made  to  realize 
it  when  thirty  or  more  Navajos  came  flocking  in 
from  all  quarters.  Many  of  them  could  —  and 
did  —  talk  English  understandably,  and  most  of 
them  seemed  inclined  to  appreciate  the  joke.  All 
save  those  whom  Lite  had  "  nipped  and  nicked  " 
in  the  course  of  their  flight  from  the  rock  ridge  to 
287 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

the  Frying-Pan.  These  were  inclined  to  be  peev- 
ish over  their  hurts  and  to  nurse  them  in  sullen 
silence  while  Luck,  having  a  rudimentary  knowl- 
' '  edge  of  medicine  and  surgery,  gave  them  what  first- 
aid  treatment  was  possible. 

Applehead,  having  plenty  of  reasons  for  avoid- 
ing publicity,  had  gone  into  retirement  in  the 
shade  of  a  clump  of  brush,  with  Lite  to  keep  him 
company  while  he  smoked  a  meditative  pipe  or 
two  and  studied  the  puzzle  of  Eamon's  probable 
"whereabouts. 

"  Can't  trust  a  E"awy,"  he  muttered  in  a  dis- 
creet undertone  to  Lite.  "  I've  fit  'em  b'fore 
now,  V  I  know.  'N'  you  kin  be  dang  sure  they 
ain't  f ergot  the  times  I've  fit  'em,  neither! 
There's  bucks  millin'  around  here  that's  jes'  achin' 
fer  a  chanst  at  me,  t'  pay  up  fer  some  I've  killed 
off  when  I  was  shurf  'n'  b'fore.  So  you  keep  'n 
eye  peeled,  Lite,  whilst  I  think  out  this  yere  dang 
move  uh  Ramon's.  'N'  if  you  see  anybody 
sneakin'  up  on  me,  you  git  him.  I  cain't  watch 
Nawyies  'n'  mill  things  over  in  m'  haid  at  the  same 
time." 

Lite  grinned  and  wriggled  over  so  that  his  back 
288 


PEACE  TALK 

was  against  a  rock.  He  laid  his  six-shooter  osten- 
tatiously across  his  lap  and  got  out  his  tobacco  and 
papers.  "  Go  ahead  and  think,  Applehead,"  he 
consented  placidly.  "  I'll  guard  your  scalp-lock." 

Speaking  literally,  Applehead  had  no  scalp- 
lock  to  guard.  But  he  did  have  a  shrewd  under- 
standing of  the  mole-like  workings  of  the  criminal 
mind ;  and  with  his  own  mind  free  to  work  on  the 
problem,  he  presently  declared  that  he  would  bet 
he  could  land  Ramon  Chavez  in  jail  within  a  week ; 
and  sent  Lite  after  Luck. 

"  I've  got  it  figgered  out,"  he  announced  when 
Luck  came  over  to  his  retreat.  "  If  Ramon 
crossed  the  railroad  he  was  aimin'  t'  hit  out  across 
the  mesa  to  the  mountains  'n'  beyond.  He 
wouldn't  go  south,  'cause  he  could  be  traced  among 
the  Injun  pueblos  —  they's  a  thousand  eyes  down 
that  way  b'fore  he'd  git  t'  wild  country.  He'd 
keep  away  from  the  valley  country  —  er  I  would, 
if  I  was  him.  I  know  dang  well  whar  I'd  hit  fer 
if  I  was  makin'  a  gitaway  'n'  didn't  come  off  over 
here  —  'n'  I  shore  would  keep  outa  Navvy  country, 
now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  No,  sir,  I'd  take  out  t'  other 
way,  through  Hell  Canon  er  Tijeras,  'n'  I'd  make- 
289 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

fer  the  Jemes  country.  That  tliar's  plenty  wild 
'n'  rough  —  'n'  come  t'  think  of  it,  the  Chavez 
boys  owns  quite  a  big  grant,  up  in  there  som'ers,  'n' 
have  got  men  in  their  pay  up  thar,  runnin'  their 
cattle.  Ramon  could  lay  low  fer  a  dang  long  while 
up  thar  'n'  be  safer'n  what  he  would  be  out 
amongst  strangers. 

"  ']SP  another  thing,  I'd  plan  t'  have  some  bosses 
stached  out  in  one  uh  them  canons,  ?n'  I'd  mebby 
use  a  autymobile  t'  git  to  'em,  'n'  send  the  car  back 
t'  town  —  if  I  could  trust  the  feller  that  drove  it 
outa  my  sight.  'N',  Luck,  if  you'll  take  my  ad- 
vice, you'll  hit  out  t'wards  the  Jemes  country.  I 
know  every  foot  uh  the  way,  'n'  we  kin  make  it  in 
a  coupla  days  by  pushin'  the  bosses.  'N'  I'll  bet 
every  dang  hoof  I  own  't  we  round  up  that  bunch 
over  thar  som'ers." 

"  You  lead  out,  then,"  Luck  told  him  promptly. 
"  I'm  willing  to  admit  you're  better  qualified  to 
take  charge  of  the  outfit  than  I  am.  You  know 
the  country —  and  you've  fit  Indians." 

"  We-ell,  now,  you're  dang  right  I  have !  ''N9 
if  some  them  bucks  don't  go  off  V  mind  their 
own  business,  I'll  likely  fight  a  few  more!  You 
290 


PEACE  TALK 

shoo  'em  outa  camp,  Luck,  V  start  'em  about  their 
own  dang  business.  '1ST'  we'll  eat  a  bite  'n'  git  on 
about  our  own.  If  we  show  up  any  grub  whilst 
this  bunch  is  hangin'  around  we'll  have  t'  feed  'em 

—  'n'  you  know  dang  well  we  ain't  got  enough 
skurcely  fer  the  Jemes  trip  as  it  is." 

"  I've  been  handing  out  money  as  it  is  till  I'm 
about  broke,"  Luck  confessed,  "making  presents 
to  those  fellows  that  came  in  with  bullets  in  their 
legs  and  arms.  Funny  nobody  got  hit  in  the  body 

—  except  one  poor  devil  that   got   shot  in   the 
shoulder." 

"  We-ell,  now,  you  kin  blame  Lite's  dang  tender 
heart  fer  that  there,"  Applehead  accused,  pulling 
at  his  sunbrowned  mustache.  "  We  was  all  comin' 
on  the  jump,  'n'  so  was  the  Injuns ;  'n'  it  was  purty 
long  range  'n'  nobody  but  Lite  could  hit  'n  Injun 
t'  save  his  soul.  'N'  Lite,  he  wouldn't  shoot  t' 
kill  —  he  jes'  kep'  on  nippin'  an'  nickin',  V 
shootin'  a  boss  now  an'  then.  I  wisht  I  was  the 
expert  shot  Lite  is  —  I'd  shore  a  got  me  a  few 
Navvies  back  there,  now  I'm  tellin'  yuh !  " 

"  Bud's  got  a  bullet  in  his  arm,"  Luck  said, 
"  but  the  bone  wasn't  hit,  so  he'll  make  out,  and 
291 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

one  of  the  pack-horses  was  shot  in  the  ear.  We 
got  off  mighty  lucky,  and  I'm  certainly  glad  Lite 
didn't  get  careless.  Cost  me  about  fifty  dollars  to 
square  us  as  it  is.  You  stay  where  you  are,  Apple- 
head,  till  I  get  rid  of  the  Indians.  The  old  fellow 
acts  like  he  feels  he  ought  to  stick  along  till  we're 
outa  here.  He's  kind  of  taken  a  notion  to  me  be- 
cause I  can  talk  sign,  and  he  seems  to  want  to  make 
sure  we  don't  mix  it  again  with  the  tribe.  Some 
of  them  are  kinda  peeved,  all  right.  You've  got 
no  quarrel  with  this  old  fellow,  have  you  ?  He's  a 
big-league  medicine  man  in  the  tribe,  and  his 
Spanish  name  is  Mariano  Pablo  Montoya.  Know 
him?" 

"  ISTo  I  don't,  V  I  don't  keer  to  neither,"  Apple- 
head  retorted  crossly.  "  Shoo  'em  off,  Luck,  so's 
we  kin  eat  My  belly's  shore  a  floppin'  agin  m' 
backbone,  V  I'm  tellin'  yuh  right !  " 


292 


CHAPTER  XX 

LUIS    ROJAS   TALKS 

THREE  days  of  biding  by  day  in  sequestered 
little  groves  or  deep,  bidden  canons,  with 
only  Luis  Rojas  to  bear  ber  company  —  Luis  Rojas 
wbom  she  did  not  trust  and  therefore  watched  al- 
ways from  under  her  long  straight  lashes,  with 
oblique  glances  when  she  seemed  to  be  gazing 
straight  before  her;  three  nights  of  tramping 
through  rough  places  where  often  the  horses  must 
pause  and  feel  carefully  for  space  to  set  their  feet. 
Roads  there  were,  but  Luis  avoided  roads  as  though 
they  carried  the  plague.  When  he  must  cross  one 
he  invariably  turned  back  and  brushed  out  their 
footprints  —  until  he  discovered  that  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  was  much  cleverer  at  this  than  he  was; 
often  he  smoked  a  cigarette  while  Annie  cov- 
ered their  trail.  Three  days  and  three  nights, 
and  Ramon  was  not  there  where  they  stopped  for 
the  third  day. 

293 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

"  We  go  slow,"  Luis  explained  nervously  because 
of  the  look  in  the  black,  unreadable  eyes  of  this 
straight,  slim  Indian  girl  who  was  so  beautiful  — 
and  so  silent.  "  They  go  nroy  fas',  Kamon  an' 
Beel.  Poco  tiempo  —  sure,  we  fin'  dem  little 
soon." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  betray  by  so  much 
as  a  quiver  of  an  eyelash  that  Luis  had  mentioned 
Eill  unwittingly.  But  she  hid  the  name  away  in 
her  memory,  and  all  that  day  she  sat  and  pondered 
over  the  meager  facts  that  had  come  her  way,  and 
with  the  needle  of  her  suspicion  she  wove  them  to- 
gether patiently  until  the  pattern  was  almost  com- 
plete. 

Kamon  and  Bill  —  what  Bill,  save  Bill  Holmes, 
would  be  with  Ramon  ?  Eamon  and  Bill  Holmes 
—  memory  pictured  them  again  by  the  rock  in  the 
moonlight,  muttering  in  Spanish  mostly,  mutter- 
ing mystery  always.  Eamon  and  Bill  Holmes  — 
she  remembered  the  sly,  knowing  glances  between 
these  two  at  "  location "  though  they  scarcely 
seemed  on  speaking  terms.  Eamon  and  Bill  — 
and  this  mysterious  night-travelling,  when  there 
should  be  no  trouble  and  no  mystery  at  all  beyond 
294 


LUIS  ROJAS  TALKS 

the  house  of  the  priest!  So  much  trouble  over 
the  marriage  of  an  Indian  girl  and  a  young  Mexi- 
can cattle  king?  Annie-Many-Ponies  was  not  so 
stupid  as  to  believe  that;  she  had  seen  too  much 
of  civilization  in  her  wanderings  with  the  show, 
and  her  work  in  pictures.  She  had  seen  man  and 
maid  "  make  marriage,"  in  pictures  and  in  reality. 
There  should  be  no  trouble,  no  mysterious  follow- 
ing of  Ramon  by  night. 

Something  evil  there  was,  since  Bill  Holmes 
was  with  Ramon.  Annie-Many-Ponies  knew  that 
it  was  so.  Perhaps  —  perhaps  the  evil  was 
against  Wagalexa  Conka !  Perhaps  —  her  heart 
forgot  to  beat  when  the  thought  stabbed  her  brain 
—  perhaps  they  had  killed  Wagalexa  Conka !  It 
might  be  so,  if  he  had  suspected  her  flight  and  had 
followed  Ramon,  and  they  had  fought. 

In  the  thick  shade  of  a  pifion  Luis  slept  with  his 
face  to  the  ground,  his  forehead  pressed  upon  his 
folded  arms.  Annie-Many-Ponies  got  up  silently 
and  went  and  stood  beside  him,  looking  down  at 
him  as  though  she  meant  to  wrest  the  truth  from 
his  brain.  And  Luis,  feeling  in  his  sleep  the  in- 
tensity of  her  gaze,  stirred  uneasily,  yawned  and 
295 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

sat  up,  looking  about  him  bewilderedly.  His 
glance  rested  on  the  girl,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  faced  her. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  smiled  her  little,  tantaliz-l 
ing,  wistfully  inviting  smile  —  the  smile  which 
Luck  had  whimsically  called  heart-twisting.  "  I 
awful  lonesome,"  she  murmured,  and  sat  down 
with  her  back  nestling  comfortably  against  a 
grassy  bank.  "You  talk.  I  not  lets  you  sleep 
all  time.  You  think  I  not  good  for  talk  to  ?  " 

"  Me,  I  not  tell  w'at  I'm  theenk,"  Luis  retorted 
with  a  crooning  note,  and  sat  down  facing  her. 
"  Ramon  be  mad  me." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  looked  at  him,  her  eyes  soft 
and  heavy  with  that  languorous  look  which  will 
quickest  befuddle  the  sense  of  a  man.  "  You  tell ; 
Ramon  not  hear,"  she  hinted.  "Ramon,  he  got 
plenty  trebles  for  thinking  about."  She  smiled 
again.  "  Ramon  plenty  long  ways  off.  He 
got  Bill  Holmes  for  talking  to.  You  talk  to 
me." 

How  he  did  it,  why  he  did  it,  Luis  Rojas  could 
never  explain  afterwards.     Something  there  was 
in  her  smile,  in  her  voice,  that  bewitched  him. 
296 


LUIS  ROJAS  TALKS 

Something  there  was  that  made  him  think  she 
knew  and  approved  of  the  thing  Eamon  had 
planned.  He  made  swift,  Spanish  love  to  Annie- 
Many-Ponies,  who  smiled  upon  him  but  would  not 
let  him  touch  her  hand  —  and  so  bewitched  him 
the  more.  He  made  love  —  but  also  he  talked. 
He  told  Annie-Many-Ponies  all  that  she  wished 
him  to  tell;  and  some  things  that  she  had  never 
dreamed  and  that  she  shrank  from  hearing. 

For  he  told  her  of  the  gold  they  had  stolen,  and 
how  they  had  made  it  look  as  though  Luck  Lindsay 
had  planned  the  theft.  He  told  her  that  he  loved 
her  —  which  did  not  interest  her  greatly  —  and 
he  told  her  that  Eamon  would  never  marry  her  — 
which  was  like  a  knife  thrust  to  her  soul.  Eamon 
had  many  loves,  said  Luis,  and  he  was  true  to 
none;  never  would  he  marry  a  woman  to  rule 
his  life  and  make  him  trouble  —  it  were  easier 
to  make  love  and  then  laugh  and  ride  away.  Luis 
was  "  muy  s'prised  "  that  Annie-Many-Ponies  had 
ever  believed  that  Eamon  would  marry  her,  beau- 
tiful though  she  was,  charming  though  she  was, 
altogether  irresistible  though  she  was  —  Luis  be- 
came slightly  incoherent  here  and  lasped  into  swift 
297 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

rolling  Spanish  words  which  she  did  not  under- 
stand. 

Luis,  before  the  sun  went  down  and  it  was  time 
to  eat  supper  and  go  on,  became  so  thoroughly  be- 
witched that  he  professed  himself  eager  to  let  his 
share  of  the  gold  go,  and  to  take  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  to  a  priest  and  marry  her  —  if  she  wished 
very  much  to  be  married  by  a  priest.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  his  exaltation,  Annie-Many-Ponies  chilled 
him  with  the  look  she  gave  him. 

"  You  big  fool,"  she  told  him  bluntly.  "  I  not 
so  fool  like  that.  I  go  to  Eamon  —  and  plenty 
gold!  I  think  you  awful  fool.  You  make  me 
tired!" 

Luis  was  furious  enough  for  a  minute  to  do  her 
violence  —  but  Annie-Many-Ponies  killed  that  im- 
pulse also  with  the  cold  contempt  in  her  eyes. 
She  was  not  afraid  of  him,  and  like  an  animal  he 
dared  not  strike  where  he  could  not  inspire  fear. 
He  muttered  a  Mexican  oath  or  two  and  went  mor- 
tifiedly  away  to  lead  the  horses  down  to  the  little 
stream  where  they  might  drink.  The  girl  was 
right  —  he  was  a  fool,  he  told  himself  angrily ; 
and  sulked  for  hours. 

298 


LUIS  ROJAS  TALKS 

Fool  or  not,  he  had  told  Annie-Many-Ponies 
what  she  wanted  to  know.  He  had  given  food  to 
her  brooding  thoughts  —  food  that  revived  swiftly 
and  nourished  certain  traits  lying  dormant  in  her 
nature,  buried  alive  under  the  veneer  of  white 
man's  civilization  —  as  we  are  proud  to  call  it. 

The  two  ate  in  silence,  and  in  silence  they  sad- 
dled the  horses  and  fared  forth  again  in  their  quest 
of  Kamon  —  who  had  the  gold  which  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  boldly  asserted  was  an  added  lure.  "  The 
monee  —  always  the  man  wins  that  has  nmchos 
monee."  Luis  muttered  often  to  himself  as  he 
rode  into  the  dusk.  Behind  him  Annie-Many- 
Ponies  walked  and  led  the  black  horse  that  bore 
all  her  worldly  possessions  bound  to  the  saddle. 
The  little  black  dog  padded  patiently  along  at  his 
heels. 


290 


CHAPTER  XXI 

"  WAGALEXA    CONKA COLA  !  " 

good  little  girl  yoh  are  to  trus'  Eamon! 
Now  I  knows  for  sure  yoh  lov'  me  moch 
as  I  lov'  yoh !  Now  we  go  little  ride  more  to  my 
house  high  up  in  the  pinons —  then  we  be  so 
happy  like  two  birds  in  nes'.  Firs'  we  rest  our- 
selves, querida  mia.  This  good  place  for  res',  my 
sweetheart  that  comes  so  far  to  be  with  Ramon. 
To-morrow  we  go  to  my  house  —  to  nes'  of  my 
loved  one.  Thees  cabin,  she's  very  good  little  nes' 
ontil  tomorrow  —  yoh  theenk  so  ?  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies,  sitting  beside  the  doorway 
of  the  primitive  little  log  cabin  where  the  night- 
journeys  with  Luis  had  ended,  looked  up  into 
Ramon's  flushed  face  with  her  slow  smile.  But 
her  eyes  were  two  deep,  black  wells  whose  depths 
he  could  not  fathom. 

"  Where  them  priest  you  promise  ?  "  she  asked, 
300 


<  WAG  ALEX  A  CONKA  —  COLA! " 

her  voice  lowered  to  its  softest  Indian  tone. 
"  Now  I  think  we  make  plenty  marriage ;  then 
we  go  for  live  in  your  house." 

Ramon  turned  and  caught  her  unexpectedly  in 
his  arms.  "  Ah,  now  you  spik  foolish  talk.  Yoh 
not  trus'  Ramon !  Why  yoh  talk  pries',  pries'  all 
time?  Lov',  she's  plenty  pries'  for  us.  Pries' 
she  don'  make  us  more  lov'  each  other  —  pries' 
don'  make  us  happy  — we  like  birds  that  make 
nes'  in  tree-tops.  Yoh  think  they  mus'  have  pries' 
for  help  them  be  happy  ?  Lov' —  that's  plenty  for 
me." 

Annie-Many-Ponies  drew  herself  away  from  his 
embrace,  but  she  did  it  gently.  Bill  Holmes, 
foming  up  from  the  spring,  furnished  excuse 
enough,  and  Ramon  let  her  go. 

"You  promise  me  priest  for  making  us  mar- 
riage," she  persisted  in  her  soft  voice. 

Ramon  twisted  the  points  of  his  black  mustache 
and  regarded  her  askance,  smiling  crookedly. 
"  Yoh  'fraid  for  trus'  me,  that's  why  I  promise," 
lie  said  at  last.  "  Me,  I  don'  need  padre  to  mum- 
ble-mumble foolish  words  before  I  can  be  happy. 
Yoh  'fraid  of  Luck  Leen'sey,  that's  why  I  prom- 
301 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ise.     Now  yoh  come  way  up  here,  so  Luck  don' 
matter  no  more.     Yoh  be  happy  weeth  me." 

"  You  promise,"  Annie-Many-Ponies  repeated, 
a  sullen  note  creeping  into  her  voice. 

Bill  Holmes,  lounging  up  to  the  doorway, 
glanced  from  one  to  the  other  and  laughed. 
"  What's  the  matter,  Ramon  ? "  he  bantered. 
"  Can't  you  square  it  with  your  squaw  ?  Go  after 
her  with  a  club,  why  don't  you?  That's  what 
they're  used  to." 

Ramon  did  not  make  any  reply  whatever,  and 
Bill  gave  another  chuckling  laugh  and  joined  Luis, 
who  was  going  to  take  the  gaunt  horses  to  a  tiny 
meadow  beyond  the  hill.  As  he  went  he  said 
something  that  made  Luis  look  back  over  hit 
shoulder  and  laugh. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  lifted  her  head  and  stared 
straight  at  Ramon.  He  did  not  meet  her  eyes, 
nor  did  he  show  any  resentment  of  Bill  Holmes' 
speech;  yet  he  had  sworn  that  he  loved  her,  that 
he  would  be  proud  to  have  her  for  his  wife.  She, 
the  daughter  of  a  chief,  had  been  insulted  in  his 
presence,  and  he  had  made  no  protest,  shown  no 
indignation. 

302 


"WAG  ALEX  A  CONK  A  — COLA!" 

"  You  promise  priest  for  making  us  marriage," 
she  reiterated  coldly,  as  if  she  meant  to  force  his 
real  self  into  the  open.  "You  promise  you  put 
ring  of  gold  for  wedding  on  my  finger,  like  white 
woman's  got." 

Eamon's  laugh  was  not  pleasant.  "  Yoh  theenk 
I  marry  squaw  ?  "  he  sneered.  "  Luck  Leen'sey, 
he  don't  marry  yoh.  Why  yoh  theenk  I  marry 
yoh?  You  be  good,  Ramon  lov'  yoh.  Buy  yoh 
lots  pretty  theengs,  me  —  treat  yoh  fine.  Yoh 
lucky  girl,  yoh  bet.  Yoh  don't  be  foolish  no  more. 
Yoh  run  away,  be  my  womans.  Wat  yoh  theenk  ? 
Go  back,  perhaps?  Yoh  theenk  Luck  Leen'sey 
take  yoh  back?  You  gone  off  with  Eamon  Cha- 
vez, he  say;  yoh  stay  weeth  Eamon  then.  Yoh 
Eamon's  woman  now.  Yoh  not  be  foolish  like  yoh 
too  good  for  be  kees.  Luck,  he  kees  yoh  many 
times,  I  bet!  Yoh  don'  play  good  girl  no  more 
for  Eamon  —  oh-h,  no !  That  joke  she's  w'at  yoh 
call  ches'nut.  We  don'  want  no  more  soch  foolish 
talk,  or  else  maybe  I  do  w'at  Bill  Holmes  says  she's 
good  for  squaw !  " 

"  You  awful  big  liar,"  Annie-Many-Ponies 
stated  with  a  calm,  terrific  frankness.  "  You 
303 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

plenty  big  thief.  You  fool  me  plenty  —  now  I 
don't  be  fool  no  more.  You  so  mean  yoh  think 
all  mens  like  you.  You  think  all  girls  bad  girls. 
You  awful  big  fool,  you  think  I  stay  for  you.  I 

go." 

Ramon  twisted  his  mustache  and  laughed  at  her. 
"  ~Now  yoh  so  pretty,  when  yoh  mad,"  he  teased. 
"How  yoh  go?  All  yoh  theengs  in  cabin  — 
monee,  clothes,  grob  —  how  yoh  go?  Yoh  mad 
now  —  pretty  soon  Ramon  he  makes  yoh  glad ! 
Shame  for  soch  cross  words  —  soch  cross  looks! 
Xow  I  don't  talk  till  yoh  be  good  girl,  and  says 
yoh  lov'  Ramon.  I  don't  let  yoh  go,  neither. 
Yoh  don't  get  far  way  —  I  promise  yoh  for  true. 
I  breeng  yoh  back,  sweetheart,  I  promise  I  breeng 
yoh  back!  Yoh  don't  want  to  go  no  more  w'en 
I'm  through  weeth  yoh  —  I  promise  yoh !  Yoh 
theenk  I  let  yoh  go?  O-oh-h,  no!  Ramon  not 
let  yoh  get  far  away !  " 

In  her  heart  she  knew  that  he  spoke  at  last  the 
truth ;  that  this  was  the  real  Ramon  whom  she  had 
never  before  seen.  To  every  woman  must  come 
sometime  the  bitter  awakening  from  her  dream- 
world to  the  real  world  in  all  its  sordidness  and 

304: 


"WAG  ALEX  A  CONK  A  —  COLA!" 

selfishness.  Annie-Many-Ponies,  standing  there 
looking  at  Ramon  —  Ramon  who  laughed  at  her 
goodness  —  knew  now  what  the  future  that  had 
lain  behind  the  mountains  held  in  store  for  her. 
Not  happiness,  surely;  not  the  wide  ring  of  gold 
that  would  say  she  was  Ramon's  wife.  Luis  was 
right.  He  had  spoken  the  truth,  though  she  had 
believed  that  he  lied  when  he  said  Ramon  would 
never  marry  a  woman.  He  would  love  and  laugh 
and  ride  away,  Luis  had  told  her.  Well,  then  — 

"  Shunka  Chistala !  "  she  called  softly  to  the 
little  black  dog,  that  came  eagerly,  wagging  his 
burr-matted  tail.  She  laid  her  hand  on  its  head 
when  the  dog  jumped  up  to  greet  her.  She  smiled 
faintly  while  she  fondled  its  silky,  flapping  ears. 

"  Why  you  all  time  pat  that  dam-dog  ?  "  Ramon 
flashed  out  jealously.  "You  don't  pet  yoh  man 
what  lov'  yoh !  " 

"Dogs  don't  lie,"  said  Annie-Many-Ponies 
coldly,  and  walked  away.  She  did  not  look  back, 
she  did  not  hurry,  though  she  must  have  known 
that  Ramon  in  one  bound  could  have  stopped  her 
with  his  man's  strength.  Her  head  was  high,  her 
shoulders  were  straight,  her  eyes  were  so  black  the 
305 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

pupils  did  not  show  at  all,  and  a  film  of  in- 
scrutability veiled  what  bitter  thoughts  were  be- 
hind them. 

As  it  had  been  with  Luis  so  it  was  now  with 
Ramon.  Her  utter  disregard  of  him  held  him 
back  from  touching  her.  He  stood  with  wrath  in 
his  eyes  and  let  her  go  —  and  to  hide  his  weakness 
from  her  strength  he  sent  after  her  a  sneering 
laugh  and  words  that  were  like  a  whip. 

"All  right  —  jus'  for  now  I  let  you  ron,"  he 
jeered.  "  Bimeby  she's  different.  Bimeby  I 
show  yoh  who's  boss.  I  make  yoh  cry  for  Ramon 
be  good  to  yoh !  " 

Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  betray  by  so  muck 
as  a  glance  that  she  heard  him.  But  had  he  seen 
her  face  he  would  have  been  startled  at  the  look 
his  words  brought  there.  He  would  have  been 
startled  and  perhaps  he  would  have  been  warned. 
For  never  had  she  carried  so  clearly  the  fighting 
look  of  her  forefathers  who  went  out  to  battle. 
With  the  little  black  dog  at  her  heels  she  climbed 
a  small,  round-topped  hill  that  had  a  single  pine 
like  a  cockade  growing  from  the  top. 

For  ten  minutes  she  stood  there  on  the  top  and 
306 


'WAG  ALEX  A  CONKA  — COLA!" 

stared  away  to  the  southeast,  whence  she  had  come 
to  keep  her  promise  to  Ramon.  Never,  it  seemed 
to  her,  had  a  girl  been  so  alone.  In  all  the  world 
there  could  not  be  a  soul  so  bitter.  Liar  —  thief 
—  betrayer  of  women  —  and  she  had  left  the  clean, 
steadfast  friendship  of  her  brother  Wagalexa 
Conka  for  such  human  vermin  as  Ramon  Chavez ! 

She  sat  down,  and  with  her  face  hidden  in  her 
shawl  and  her  slim  body  rocking  back  and  forth 
in  weird  rhythm  to  her  wailing,  she  crooned  the 
mourning  song  of  the  Omaha.  Death  of  her  past, 
death  of  her  place  among  good  people,  death  of 
her  friendship,  death  of  hope  —  she  sat  there  with 
her  face  turned  toward  the  far-away,  smiling  mesa 
where  she  had  been  happy,  and  wailed  softly  to 
herself  as  the  women  of  her  tribe  had  wailed  when 
sorrow  came  to  them  in  the  days  that  were  gone. 

All  through  the  afternoon  she  sat  there  with  her 
back  to  the  lone  pine  tree  and  her  face  turned  to- 
ward the  southeast,  while  the  little  black  dog  lay  at 
her  feet  and  slept.  From  the  cabin  Ramon 
watched  her,  stubbornly  waiting  until  she  would 
come  down  to  him  of  her  own  accord.  She  would 
come  —  of  that  he  was  sure.  She  would  come  if 
307 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

he  convinced  her  that  he  would  not  go  up  and  coax 
her  to  come.  Eamon  had  known  many  girls  who 
were  given  to  sulking  over  what  he  considered  their 
imaginary  wrongs,  and  he  was  very  sure  that  he 
knew  women  better  than  they  knew  themselves. 
She  would  come,  give  her  time  enough,  and  she 
could  not  fling  at  him  then  any  taunt  that  he  had 
been  over-eager.  Certainly  she  would  come  — 
she  was  a  woman! 

But  the  shadow  of  the  pines  lengthened  until 
they  lay  like  long  fingers  across  the  earth;  and 
still  she  did  not  come.  Bill  Holmes  and  Luis, 
secure  in  the  knowledge  that  Eamon  was  on  guard 
against  any  unlooked-for  visitors,  slept  heavily  on 
the  crude  bunks  in  the  cabin.  Birds  began  twit- 
tering animatedly  as  the  heat  of  the  day  cooled 
and  they  came  forth  from  their  shady  retreats  — 
and  still  Annie-Many-Ponies  sat  on  the  little  hill- 
top, within  easy  calling  distance  of  the  cabin,  and 
never  once  looked  down  that  way.  Still  the  little  | 
black  dog  curled  at  her  feet  and  slept.  For  all 
the  movement  these  two  made,  they  might  have 
been  of  stone;  the  pine  above  was  more  unquiet 
than  they. 

308 


'  WAGALEXA  CONKA  —  COLA! " 

Eamon,  watching  her  while  lie  smoked  many 
cigarettes,  became  filled  with  a  vague  uneasiness. 
What  was  she  thinking?  What  did  she  mean  to 
do  ?  He  began  to  have  faint  doubts  of  her  coming 
down  to  him.  He  began  to  be  aware  of  something 
in  her  nature  that  was  unlike  those  other  women ; 
something  more  inflexible,  more  silent,  something 
that  troubled  him  even  while  he  told  himself  that 
she  was  like  all  the  rest  and  he  would  be  her 
master. 

"Bah!  She  thinks  to  play  with  me,  Eamon! 
Then  I  will  go  up  and  I  will  show  her  —  she  will 
follow  weeping  at  my  heels  —  like  that  dog  of  hers 
that  some  day  I  shall  kill !  " 

He  got  up  and  threw  away  his  cigarette,  glanced 
within  and  saw  that  Bill  and  Luis  still  slept,  and 
started  up  the  hill  to  where  that  motionless  figure 
sat  beneath  the  pine  and  kept  her  face  turned  from 
him.  It  would  be  better,  thought  Eamon,  to  come 
upon  her  unawares,  and  so  he  went  softly  and  very 
slowly,  placing  each  foot  as  carefully  as  though 
he  were  stalking  a  wild  thing  of  the  woods. 

Annie-Many-Ponies  did  not  hear  him  coming. 
All  her  heart  was  yearning  toward  that  far  away 
309 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

mesa.  "  Wagalexa  Conka  —  cola !  "  she  whis- 
pered, for  "  cola  "  is  the  Sioux  word  for  friend. 
Aloud  she  dared  not  speak  the  word,  lest  some 
tricksy  breeze  carry  it  to  him  and  fill  him  with 
anger  because  she  had  betrayed  his  friendship. 
"  Wagalexa  Conka  —  cola !  cola !  " 

Friendship  that  was  dead  —  but  she  yearned 
for  it  the  more.  And  it  seemed  to  her  as  she  whis- 
pered, that  Wagalexa  Conka  was  very,  very  near. 
Her  heart  felt  his  nearness,  and  her  eyes  softened. 
The  Indian  look  —  the  look  of  her  fighting  fore- 
fathers —  drifted  slowly  from  her  face  as  fog 
drifts  away  before  the  sun.  He  was  near  —  per- 
haps he  was  dead  and  his  spirit  had  come  to  take 
her  spirit  by  the  hand  and  call  her  cola  —  friend. 
If  that  were  so,  then  she  wished  that  her  spirit 
might  go  with  his  spirit,  up  through  all  that  limit- 
less blue,  away  and  away  and  away,  and  never 
stop,  and  never  tire  and  never  feel  anything  but 
friendship  like  warm,  bright  sunshine! 

Down  at  the  cabin  a  sound  —  a  cry,  a  shout  — 

startled  her.     She  brushed  her  hand  across  her 

eyes  and  looked  down.     There,  surrounding  the 

cabin,  were  the  Happy  Family,  and  old  Applehead 

310 


'WAGALEXA  CONKA  — COLA!" 

whom  she  hated  because  he  hated  her.  And  in 
their  midst  stood  Bill  Holmes  and  Luis,  and  the 
setting  sun  shone  on  something  bright  —  like  great 
silver  rings  —  that  clasped  their  wrists. 

Coming  up  the  hill  toward  her  was  Wagalexa 
Conka,  climbing  swiftly,  looking  up  as  he  came. 
Annie-Many-Ponies  sprang  to  her  feet,  startling 
the  little  black  dog  that  gave  a  yelp  of  astonish- 
ment. Came  he  in  peace  ?  She  hesitated,  watch- 
ing him  unwinkiugly.  Something  swelled  in  her 
chest  until  she  could  hardly  breathe,  and  then  flut- 
tered there  like  a  prisoned  bird.  "  Cola!  "  she 
gasped,  just  under  her  breath,  and  raised  her  hand 
in  the  outward,  sweeping  gesture  that  spoke  peace. 

"  You  theenk  to  fix  trap,  you  — !  " 

She  whirled  and  faced  Eamon,  whose  eyes  blazed 
hate  and  murder  and  whose  tongue  spoke  the  foul- 
ness of  his  soul.  He  flung  out  his  arm  fiercely  and 
thrust  her  aside.  "  Me,  I  kill  that  dam  — " 

He  did  not  say  any  more,  and  the  six-shooter 
he  had  levelled  at  Luck  dropped  from  his  nerveless 
hand.  Like  a  coiled  adder,  Annie-Many-Ponies 
had  struck.  Like  an  avenging  spirit  she  pulled 
the  knife  free  and  held  it  high  over  her  head,  fac- 
311 


THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  SIOUX 

ing  Luck  who  stared  up  at  her  from  below.  He 
thought  the  look  in  her  eyes  was  fear  of  him  and 
of  the  law,  and  he  lifted  his  hand  and  gave  hack 
the  peace-sign.  It  was  for  him  she  had  killed  — 
and  she  should  not  be  punished  if  he  could  save 
her.  But  Luck  failed  to  read  her  look  aright;  it 
was  not  fear  he  saw,  but  farewell. 

For  with  her  free  hand  she  made  the  sign  of 
peace  and  farewell  —  and  then  the  knife  de- 
scended straight  as  a  plummet  to  her  heart.  But 
even  as  she  fell  she  spurned  the  dead  Eamon  with 
her  feet,  so  that  he  rolled  a  little  way  while  the 
black  dog  growled  at  him  with  bared  teeth ;  even  in 
death  she  would  not  touch  him  who  had  been  so 
foul. 

Luck  ran  the  last  few,  steep  steps,  and  took  her 
in  his  arms.  His  eyes  were  blurred  so  that  he 
could  not  see  her  face,  and  his  voice  shook  so  that 
he  could  scarcely  form  the  words  that  brushed 
back  death  from  her  soul  and  brought  a  smile  to 
her  eyes. 

"  Annie  —  little  sister !  " 

Annie-Many^Ponies  raised  one  creeping  hand, 
groping  until  her  fingers  touched  his  face. 
312 


<  WAGALEXA  CONKA  —  COLA! " 

"  Wagalexa  Conka  —  cola !  " 
He  took  her  fingers  and  for  an  instant,  while 
she  yet  could  feel,  he  laid  them  against  his  lips. 


THE    END 


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